


Coming Home

by OldTsuki



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Betty Cooper Loves Jughead Jones, F/F, F/M, FP and Alice have a side thing, Jellybean is a bad girl, Protective Jughead Jones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 10:09:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14210832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldTsuki/pseuds/OldTsuki
Summary: When Jellybean comes back to town, things change drastically for everyone. She’s going by JB now, and she’s not interested in playing little sister for anyone.Edit: done now! This was fun to write, thank you everyone. Your comments and kudos are appreciated!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Since I’ve been bogged down in a mire of Bughead fanfiction all week, this was rattling around and needed to come out of my head. Thank you for reading.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice helps out an old friend and Jughead gets some unexpected news.

Jughead parked the bike and made sure the stand was secured, taking a minute to throw the tarp over it. The forecast said rain and he wasn’t interested in showing up to school tomorrow in damp jeans if the seat got soaked. He habitually tugged his beanie into place as he went up the three steps into the trailer, noticing before he opened the door that the lights were on.

The sight that met him inside was unexpected, to say the least. His dad was carefully writing down instructions as Alice Cooper gestured at dishes and ingredients laid out on the meager kitchen counter. Jughead noticed a box of pasta and a can of sauce. 

“Then you strain out the water, but don’t rinse it,” she was saying. When Jughead walked in, they both looked his way. “Oh, hello,” she said to him, not unpleasantly. “I trust that Betty is at home, safe from that death trap you’re allowed to ride around town like a hoodlum?”

“Alice,” said FP, with a warning tone. 

She has the courtesy to look chagrined at least. “Sorry, something just comes over me when I think of how hard I worked to leave the Southside, and I see my daughter running right back.”

Jughead crossed his arms and gave his dad a hard look. “What brings you here, Mrs. Cooper?” He asked, emphasizing the name. He and Betty had known for a while now that something was going on between their parents, but neither had been forthcoming about the nature of the relationship. Jughead chose to rub it in their faces by playing up Alice’s married status.

“Actually, boy,” said FP, before Betty’s Mom could respond. “I just got a call from Toledo. Seems like your mom finally sees that the Jones men have cleaned up alright.”

Jughead snorted a bit in disbelief. “You mean you,” he commented, but he was also too excited by the implications of that statement to be too caustic. “Does that mean—“

“Your mother and sister are arriving in Riverdale tomorrow,” said Mrs. Cooper. “I was just showing your dad how to cook a basic meal. I’m sure neither of them want takeout.”

Jughead stared at his dad. That meant Jellybean was finally coming home! He stifled his excitement, not wanting to get his hopes up too much. Mom and Jellybean had threatened to visit before, but it had actually been years since they’d set foot in Riverdale. After his dad was imprisoned and Jughead got sentenced to a few months in juvey, his mom and sister had cut ties and ran. He thought bitterly for a moment of the call he’d made from a payphone a few months before, when his mom had told him that there was no room for him where she was staying.

Despite living in the internet age, Jughead had been strangely cut out from Jellybean’s social media ever since she’d left. Sure, his sister had been eight when she’d left town. But she was fourteen now, and if she was anything like every girl he knew then she had to maintain an Instagram account, at least. Though he rarely updated his own, preferring Snapchat and its instant line of communication to Betty, he’d noticed Jellybean’s oddly infrequent and impersonal updates.

“So they’re staying for the weekend?” He asked casually. FP’s face broke into a bright smile and he glanced over at Alice, who echoed his expression.

“Son, your mom said that they’re coming home. For good. We’re done living apart.”

Jughead couldn’t suppress the flutter of excitement that rose in his mind at that statement. It was too strong to stifle. From years born of disappointment, he felt oddly that he was setting himself up for a crushing dash of reality. Like a kid waking up on Christmas to find nothing but beer bottles under the tree.

One practical aspect of this new arrangement was staring them smack in the face. “Uh, where will Jellybean sleep?” he asked. 

FP shrugged one shoulder. “We can let her and your mom take the bedroom and we’ll crash on the couch until we figure out a more permanent situation.”

Alice started to collect her things into her purse, leaving the dishes and ingredients on the counter. “You’ll be fine, FP. Pasta isn’t hard to cook. Just heat up the sauce and pour it over the noodles.”

His dad looked at her and sighed. “Thanks, Alice, you’re a lifesaver.”

Mrs. Cooper collected her purse and Jughead stepped aside so that she could make her way out the door. FP slung his jacket over one shoulder as he stood, picking up his keys from the table. They left together, leaving Jughead to relax on the couch after fishing his phone charger out from between the wall and plugging it in.

He thumbed past his lock screen, a photo of Betty smiling as she reclined on a rock next to Sweetwater River in a black bikini, and opened his neglected Instagram app.

He opened the search to pull up his little sister’s name, scrolling briefly through her strangely impersonal posts. Aside from a few photos of poutine which might have featured her hands, or anyone’s for that matter, there weren’t even any recent selfies.

He clicked home and opened his messaging app.

 _Hey, Jellybean. Heard you and Mom are heading to RD soon?_ He typed, then erased the message after thinking it over. His sister rarely text messaged him, either, aside from the occasional holiday message. He frowned as he realized that he had no idea who her friends were, what she was interested in, or really any other personal details about her life.

 _Dad just told me. Is this for real?_ He messaged instead. No emotion, no getting his hopes up. It would be better to come across as all business, until they’d had a little bit of time to get reacquainted again. They’d been close as kids, but realistically it had been almost five years since he’d truly spoken with his sister.

He was scrolling through his snap feed when his phone buzzed. The notification window flashed across the top of the screen. 

Jellybean had simply replied, _Yes._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Betty calms down poor Jug, and puts her expert Cooper event planning skills to use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the anti-Falice vibe, but I can’t imagine that Jug and Betty would be supportive at first. Fear not, fellow shippers.

Dad told him the next morning that his mom and Jellybean would be getting to town in the late afternoon, probably after he got home from school. Jughead slipped into his jacket and slung his backpack over his shoulders. 

“Plan on having family dinner,” FP said, before Jughead made it out the door. Less likely words had never been uttered in the trailer. He paused at the door, thinking to himself that this was going to take some getting used to. For all of his life, family dinners had been reserved for birthdays and whatever holidays his parents didn’t forget. Jughead nodded in quick acknowledgement that he’d heard his dad, and he was out the door in a heartbeat.

Before he fired up the bike, he sent a quick text to Betty. _Meet me in the BG_ , he typed, hitting send and shoving his phone deep into his jacket pocket. Jughead furled aside the tarp and threw a leg over the bike, balancing before he kicked up the stand. It roared to life, with much less feedback since Betty gave it a tune up the previous weekend. There was no telling when FP had last serviced the bike, before Jughead wordlessly claimed it as his own. He considered it his dad’s penance for the recent jail time and the other crap he’d put Jughead through. Plus, Betty had looked adorable with a red bandana tied around her blonde ponytail, ala Rosie the Riveter, and even more so once she accidentally smudged oil across her cheek. He’d had her out of her navy blue coveralls and up to her parents’ attic faster than she could purr, _Pass me that wrench, Juggie._

He parked at the back of the lot, far from the shiny new cars that Northside parents had gifted to their blossoming drivers. Jughead knew that his bike didn’t belong over there. He found a spot next to the battered old Cadillac that Sweet Pea and Fangs carpooled in every day. It belonged to Fangs’s Grandma, or someone, and Jughead felt that he was allowed to tease them mercilessly about it in comparison to his dad’s old motorcycle.

Jughead made it to the Blue and Gold office before his beautiful girlfriend, tossing his helmet into an empty chair and replacing his beanie. Sometimes when he thought about Betty, he was still amazed that she gave him the time of day. She was leagues above him, whatever personal darkness she thought she was harboring. It was nothing compared to the things that he’d done.

He was just contemplating the pleasant way that her shoulders curved before the dip of her collarbone when the object of his affection slipped through the door. She was wearing a soft grey knit top and navy capris that hugged her hips deliciously. Jughead smiled easily as her eyes met his.

“Good morning, Betts,” he said happily.

“Morning, Juggie. What did you need to talk about?” She asked curiously, leaning down to give him a quick kiss. They didn’t like to display a lot of affection in the halls of Riverdale High, but the Blue and Gold office was one place where they were secluded enough to at least share a kiss. They didn’t want anyone comparing them to a certain brunette and ginger haired couple. Of course, Betty’s Mom had free reign to come and go from the same room, so they didn’t make intimacy a habit here either. Never knew when Alice Cooper might unexpectedly walk through that door.

Betty’s innocent question brought Jughead’s troubles crashing back in his mind. He sighed heavily and let one hand run along her impossibly soft cheek before explaining. “It sounds like my mom and my sister are coming home,” he said.

Betty smiled and said, “That’s great, Juggie!”

He was partially inclined to agree. The Jughead of 11 or 12 wanted nothing more than his mom and sister to come home. Growing up, despite the age difference, he and Jellybean had been an inseparable team. More from necessity than choice, they’d had to protect one another from their parents almost from the time they were born. Losing his sister was like losing a part of himself—he’d struggled for years to reconcile his loneliness, even as he fought to preserve the places in Riverdale that held his happiest memories. Deep down, Jughead was beginning to admit to himself that he’d been doing it all along for her, hoping that Jellybean would be just as homesick for Riverdale as he had been for his family. Maybe if she didn’t want to come back for him, she’d come back for the town.

Betty could see that he wasn’t as euphoric as she expected, and she tilted her head a bit as her smile faded. She didn’t press, letting Jughead gather his thoughts before he replied. Her unwavering support was one of the qualities he loved most about her.

“I’m worried that it won’t be,” he whispered, looking away from her beautiful gaze. “What if it isn’t great?”

Betty slid into the seat next to him, putting a hand on his knee. Now that they were physically on the same level, she said, “I’m sure it will take some getting used to.”

Jughead habitually tugged his beanie into place and shook his head. “What if she hates me?” he asked. How else could he explain Jellybean’s radio wave silence, even though they both had smartphones? Albeit, Jughead only had data services when he connected to a WiFi network, but still. He thought of his sister’s curt reply the previous night and tried to suppress the anxiety that was threatening to hurl like a mess of word vomit all over Betty.

She slid her hand over to his, squeezing gently. “I’m sure she doesn’t hate you, Juggie.” 

He sighed again. “Thanks, Betts, but I’m not sure. Can you keep your phone around tonight? Dad’s making family dinner and I’m not sure I can make it through without some sane conversation.”

Betty nodded somberly and squeezed his hand again. “No problem, Jug. I’m here whenever you need me.”

He smiled lightly at her. They had to get going to class soon, but the bell had yet to ring. Now that he’d gotten that off his chest, he said, “When I got home yesterday, your mom was showing my dad how to cook.”

Betty wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. Operation ‘Destroy Falice’ needs to be over as of yesterday.”

He smirked at the code name they’d given the strange and undeniable connection between their parents. With his mom coming home, maybe Operation Destroy would come to fruition without any Bughead intervention. “Agreed. Still no word on their mysterious past,” he lamented. 

The Serpents had been characteristically tight-lipped on the topic, even threatening to tell FP when Jughead tried to ask around. Their better chance had been at poking around Betty’s house, but they’d turned up nothing of interest other than her mother’s leather jacket from a box in the attic. It creaked with disuse when they unfolded it, but the emblem of the Serpents on the back was unmistakable. Jughead didn’t want to think too hard about the stains splashed across the off-white patch, which looked undeniably like a splatter of blood. When they’d found it, his mind had gone back to a dark night where he’d literally cut a Serpent loose from the gang. Jughead pushed those thoughts down with his memories of sad Christmases and pointless bus tickets. 

The investigative team was certain that eventually the truth would come out. In the meantime, they’d simply kept tabs on Alice an FP’s whereabouts whenever possible, which was surprisingly not often.

Betty smiled suddenly, her face brightening as he looked questioningly at her. “Juggie, I have an idea! What if we get the gang together at Pop’s for a milkshake to welcome Jellybean back to Riverdale?”

He smiled back, feeling a weight lift from his mind. Pop’s was a great idea—they’d gone there often together as kids, usually sharing one milkshake with money that Jughead scrounged together from returning bottles he picked up around Sunnyside. “That’s a great idea, Betty. We can meet after dinner. If I’m going to drive Jellybean, though, do you think...”

She nodded. “If I can’t borrow mom’s car, I’ll get a ride from Archie.”

Jughead smiled, even though he hated Archie’s shiny blue convertible. It was a symbol of the deal Archie had made with the devil, as far as Jughead was concerned. Whatever water they had under the bridge, though, he trusted his longtime friend enough at least to drive his girl to Pop’s.

He leaned in to kiss her again just as they heard the unrelenting shriek of the bell. Betty smiled against his lips and pulled quickly away, slinging her backpack over one shoulder as she sauntered away in those navy capris.

Jughead took a deep breath and thought of Principal Weatherbee, cold showers, and Archie kissing Betty. He slung his own backpack over his shoulder and made his way toward his first class. Thank God for Betty Cooper, he thought.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Jones family sits down for family dinner for the first time in years. Things go...as well as could be expected.

At the end of the school day, Jughead caught Betty before she went to Vixens rehearsal and snuck another kiss, feeling very grateful that she’d thought of taking Jellybean to Pop’s. Whenever things had gotten particularly bad as kids, a double chocolate milkshake had always cheered up his sister without fail. She smiled that secretive, sexy Betty smile that never failed to turn all the thoughts in his mind into grey formless mush before heading into the locker room. Jughead stood in the hall for a moment, thinking again about how lucky he was.

“Step aside, Wednesday Addams,” the unwelcome drawl of Cheryl Blossom purred from behind him. “I don’t think Principal Weatherbee will be too pleased if I inform him that you’re loitering outside the girls’ locker room like a peeping Tom.”

Jughead rolled his eyes and turned around. “In your dreams, Cheryl,” he muttered. “You know damn well that I was just saying goodbye to Betty.”

Cheryl gave him a once-over, her mascaraed lashes fluttering with the effort. She huffed, “My sweet cousin is too good for you, Jones. Get out of my sight.”

With that, she shouldered past him, taking care to knock him back with as much innocuous force as she could muster. For the first time, he realized that Jellybean would probably be starting at Riverdale High if she was truly back to stay. As he walked away from Cheryl, he wondered how he could possibly protect his sister from the likes of the Blossoms. 

When he got to his bike, he saw that Sweet Pea and Fangs were already long gone. The only cars left in the parking lot were clustered at the front. Not many of the Southside transplants deigned to get involved in extracurricular activities with the Northside students, given their lukewarm reception into the school. Other than Toni, the River Vixen, of course.

Tugging his jacket out of the bag on the back of the bike, he shrugged into his leather and adjusted his helmet. Jughead took a second to make sure his phone was secure in his pocket before he kicked the bike to life. Rolling out of the parking lot, he headed for Sunnyside—for home.

When he arrived, he saw a battered tan Honda Accord parked outside the trailer. The back was full of various bags and items, some hastily shoved in like last minute thoughts. Jellybean and Mom must have recently parked, or the bags would have been unloaded already, he thought. Parking the motorcycle, he stashed his helmet in the bike’s bag and took a second to have a deep breath.

It’s just Jellybean, he told himself. Betty was probably right—it would take some getting used to, but soon enough they’d pick up where they left off. 

Then why couldn’t he shake the electric feeling of foreboding that kept shooting through his fingers and toes whenever he thought about going into the trailer?

He focused for a second on some good memories he’d had in this place. The thought of a particular blonde, pressed up against the kitchen cabinets while her knees clenched against his hips, bolstered him temporarily. Wherever his mom and sister had been, this was _his_ home, no thanks to the two of them.

Jughead tucked his keys into his pocket and went up the stairs. When he opened the door, a small cloud of steam wafted unexpectedly out of the little kitchen.

His mom was standing in front of the sink, her hands on the colander that FP had borrowed from Alice the day before. His dad was standing behind her, one hand on her hip and the other on a can of open spaghetti sauce. They froze in that tableau for a moment as the door opened, looking over in unison at their teenaged son.

Then a tearful smile spread over his mom’s face. She extracted herself from FP’s arms and set down the colander, crossing the tiny kitchen in three short strides.

“Jughead,” she breathed, the tears spilling over her cheeks. “Oh my, you’ve grown up.”

His mom pulled him into a hug. Jughead felt his eyes prick painfully at the embrace, and he fought with all his might to hold back his own tears. As Gladys pulled him against her, he noticed that she smelled like peaches and soap. Her brunette hair tickled his jaw, taking him back to a time when he was six and she’d calmed him down after someone in the trailer park had stolen his bicycle. He screwed his eyes closed and let himself hug her back, thinking of the day she’d told him that he couldn’t come to Toledo. He’d fought back his tears then, too. He’d resolved when he was ten, no matter what sort of shit his parents put him through, he wasn’t going to cry about it. He wasn’t a baby, for fuck’s sake.

She let him go and he took a breath to steady himself, hoping that no one noticed how shaken he’d been. The breath cleared away the pain in his eyes, allowing him to see into the living room.

Seated on the couch, her face lit up by the soft glow of her cell phone screen, was his little sister.

Jughead blinked a few times. Sure, it had been years since he’d seen her in person. The few photos she’d shared online gave him the impression of a very shy kid, and by extension, he’d assumed that she struggled with acne or didn’t know how to do her hair. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Jellybean glanced over, her heavily mascaraed eyes fluttering just enough to put Cheryl Blossom to shame. With a soft flick of her head, a wave of fringed brunette hair drifted ghostlike over her shoulder. She was wearing a soft lilac plaid, unbuttoned, with a grey tank top underneath, and jeans that fit her like a second skin. Black boots laced halfway up her calves, resting on the coffee table that Jughead usually used to eat takeout while he watched Netflix through Betty’s account. Her lips glistened unnaturally, listing to one side as her eyes swept over his disheveled appearance.

He habitually adjusted his beanie, swiping a lock of hair out of his eyes as he did so. Never, in a thousand years, would Jughead have expected his sister to grow up like this while she was gone.

For one insane moment, he panicked. He thought that he’d text Betty and tell her Pop’s was off. He couldn’t imagine this creature coming into contact with his friends, not with everyone walking away from the encounter unscathed. In Jughead’s mind, this sort of perfection was reserved only for the bitchiest girls in Riverdale. He wasn’t sure if he’d be protecting Jellybean from anyone, if he was honest with himself. He strongly suspected now that he’d be protecting all of them from her.

The moment had lasted ages, but Jellybean suddenly smiled like a lightbulb and rose from the couch where Jughead slept at night. She crossed the living room and held out her arms. “Jughead,” she cooed with too much enthusiasm. “It’s been so, so long!”

He let her hug him, patting her back awkwardly as she did so. After about three breaths, the hug was over and Jellybean stepped away. He tried to make himself smile in response, thinking that he wasn’t imagining the flash of hostility that he saw in her eyes as he faltered.

“Yeah, Jellybean, like six years,” he responded flatly. He felt like an antelope on the savannah, just realizing that a cheetah was staring out of the grass. Taking another steadying breath, he shoved those feelings aside. This was his sister, the little girl he’d protected almost all of his life. Whatever she’d grown up to look like, it didn’t change anything. Jughead was still going to do everything in his power to help her adjust to life in Riverdale and protect her from its darkness.

He was sure that somewhere, behind the cherry-red manicure and the midnight eyeliner, that vulnerable kid was still lurking inside the etherial mask she’d constructed. Jughead imagined that frightened, inner Jellybean as the pimply frizzy-haired girl he’d been picturing for the last six years. Suddenly, it made it easier for him to smile.

“Dinner’s ready, kids,” FP said from the kitchen. Jughead turned, seeing his mother set a bowl of steaming pasta on the little table.

She glanced over at him. “Jughead, please take off that leather jacket in the house. Your father and I have agreed that there will be no Serpent business here, now that your sister and I are back. We don’t want to put her in any danger.”

He bit back a protest and smiled thinly. Listening to his mother like a little robot, Jughead hung his jacket on the hook in the living room alongside his father’s battle-worn coat. Putting on a sweatshirt to make up for the loss of the leather’s warmth, he sat down at the table.

Jughead wasn’t used to this much conversation in the evening, either. Usually FP stumbled in from Pop’s, grabbed a single beer from the fridge, and retreated to the bedroom to watch TV on the little screen he’d rigged above the dresser. Jughead was left primarily to his own devices in the living room, usually watching True Crime documentaries until he fell asleep on the couch, texting Betty all the while.

FP was smiling at everyone, looking eerily like he was actually happy to the core. Jughead couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen such an expression on his father’s face. He supposed that he should look excited too, since this was something he’d wanted for years.

Gladys told them about the jobs she’d been working in Toronto. It sounded like she hardly left herself any downtime, between an overnight waitressing gig and a daytime position as the receptionist at a dentist’s office. From all she said, it sounded like Jellybean had been left primarily on her own all these years, too. Of course, she had their grandparents to watch out for her, but Gram and Gramp were approaching their mid-eighties and needed more looking after themselves than the looking they did.

Jughead couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his grandparents, either, come to think of it. He chewed his food and wondered why he’d been imprisoned in Riverdale. Was it because of the matches? Surely, his family hadn’t turned their backs on him so resolutely because of a little childhood stupidity. And looking back at the situation now, wasn’t juvie an extreme reaction to that incident? Why hadn’t his mom stood up for him, rather than running away?

With these thoughts running through his mind, he was fairly silent while Gladys and FP spoke. Jellybean, he noticed, was also quiet. She glanced at him a few times with an expression he couldn’t fully read, though he prided himself on reading people as a writer. He thought maybe it was irritation, or confusion.

“Dad says you have a girlfriend, Jughead?” his mom asked. He was startled out of his observations by his name. Jughead swallowed quickly and nodded, smiling a little bit at the thought of Betty.

“Yeah, mom, Betty Cooper and I have been dating for a few months now,” he said.

Gladys screwed her mouth to one side and frowned. “Betty Cooper? Is that Alice Cooper’s daughter?”

FP glanced over and nodded, his expression becoming a little bit guarded. Jughead noticed this withdrawal and couldn’t help frowning a bit in response. “Yeah, mom, we’ve gone to school together for years,” he explained.

His mother looked over at his father as if she were saying something to him without speaking. FP blinked and put a forkful of pasta in his mouth in response. Mom muttered, “You know how I feel about Alice,” under her breath, but Jughead saw her lips move enough to understand exactly what she was saying.

He filed that away for Operation Destroy, thinking uncomfortably about his mother’s intense reaction to the identity of his girlfriend. FP pretty much gave the two of them carte blanche when it came to their relationship, and the only negative feedback they’d gotten was from Betty’s mom. Jughead hadn’t been considering what sort of stance his own mother might take on the situation. Perhaps all that dread hadn’t been unfounded.

“She’s really sweet, mom. You’ll love her,” he said, trying to smooth over the situation.

Gladys smiled thinly at him, and Jughead didn’t believe that she was happy for a moment. It was the same look she had given his dad for years when he brought home brown paper bags of bottles in front of company. “I’m sure,” she said, looking over at Jellybean.

His sister cast some side-eye in his direction, tactfully putting another bite of pasta in her mouth rather than joining the conversation. Jughead was feeling that this dinner talk was unfairly focused on himself, so he said, “How about you, Jellybean? Did you meet anyone in Toledo?”

The flash of unbridled fury that streaked across his sister’s face was unmistakable. In an instant, Jughead knew that she had indeed met someone, and she was not thrilled about leaving them behind. He took a leaf from her book and had another bite of pasta, chewing innocently while he waited for her response.

“No,” she said sweetly. 

Jughead glanced at his dad, who gave him the wordless command to shut the hell up. He took another few bites of his dinner in silence, trying to recall if he’d ever sat through any other meal this intense.

Gladys talked more about nothing, and FP filled her in on his job at Pop’s. She leaned over and told him that she was so proud he’d turned over a new chapter in their lives. FP positively glowed, as if he were trying to infect the two brooding teenagers at the table with his own radiant joy. Jellybean and Jughead remained silent, clearing their plates. When Gladys started to clean up, Jellybean flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned to Jughead.

“Want to show me what’s changed in Sunnyside, big brother?” she asked, her voice dripping with sweet venom. 

He snagged his jacket from the hook in the living room, gesturing toward the door. “After you, Jellybean,” he said, smiling for their mother.

As soon as the door of the trailer was closed, Jellybean turned toward him.

“It’s JB,” she snapped, putting her hand on her hip and planting her feet on the ground like she was expecting a fight.

Jughead raised his eyebrows. “Sure,” he said, his tone neutral. “I was going to offer to take you to Pop’s tonight, actually. Just to say welcome home.”

She softened, something like her old personality glimmering across her face for a shining moment. Then, the tough girl mask was back. “Fine. Not like there’s anything else to do in this podunk town.”

Years of fighting for Riverdale, specifically the Southside, raised his hackles at that comment. He told himself that she was just hurting over leaving Toledo, that she’d calm down in a few days. Jughead imagined that it was what Betty would say.

Instead of fighting, he got out his bike helmet and held it out to her. JB stared at it for a moment, her eyes lingering on the crown he’d scratched over the visor. She tucked her hair into the back of her flannel and pulled the helmet over her head. Jughead started the bike and waited for his sister to climb on the back.

She positioned herself, clasping her hands over his abdomen. Jughead was about to start the bike when she leaned forward.

“I’m not eight years old any more, Jughead,” she said. Somehow, his lifelong nickname managed to sound idiotic coming from her mouth. Only Alice Cooper had ever been so derisive with him. “I don’t know what you’ve been doing all this time, other than joining dad’s gang, but things aren’t going to be like they were before I left. Never, ever, again.”

In response, the bike roared to life. He pulled out of Sunnyside, his mind lit with a million questions about what had happened to his sister in Toledo that made her this way.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which JB shows a few more of her true colors.

Jughead pulled into a space at Pop’s and scanned the window quickly to ascertain who was already there. He saw Josie and Reggie at a table, smiling over fries. A little ways across the restaurant, a certain red-haired teen was shaking his head at something his brunette girlfriend was saying, both of them smiling. He felt his heart drop a little. No Betty.

As Jel—JB—got off the bike and shook her hair out of the helmet, Jughead pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to his girlfriend. _Pops?_

His phone buzzed a second later. _Omw sry,_ it read.

Jughead slid his phone back into his pocket and kept his hands inside. He smiled lightly at JB, who was looking around with something like nostalgic appreciation flickering across her face. For the first time that evening, he felt hopeful.

“Let’s head in, it looks like Archie and Veronica are already here,” he said.

JB smiled a bit. “Archie Andrews? How’s he been?”

Jughead shrugged one shoulder. What to say? That Archie had become a tool, that he might be joining a real life mafia, that he was so whipped by Veronica he’d even betray Jughead at her bidding? Maybe that he’d helped Jug deliver drugs for Penny Peabody in the middle of the night? Or he’d started a militia?

“He’s been fine,” Jughead said evasively.

JB raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. She followed her brother into the diner, staying a few paces behind him. 

Jughead approached the table that Archie and Veronica were sitting at. “Hey guys,” he said, causing them both to look over. “Mind if we join you?”

Veronica looked up and raised her eyebrows in alarm, going best friend Betty-protector mode. Jughead didn’t blame her—his sister was nonchalantly applying more lip gloss as if he were introducing her to a grocery store clerk. She gave JB a once-over and said, “Who is this?”

Archie was smiling, at least. “Wow, you must be Jellybean. You’ve changed a lot!”

JB smiled sweetly at him and slid into the booth across from Veronica. Jughead followed, pressing his lips together at Archie’s enthusiastic greeting.

“It’s JB now, Archie,” his sister corrected smoothly, her voice almost a purr. “You’ve changed a lot too, from what I remember. In a good way.”

Her tone was sultry enough to put Veronica into full blown defensive mode. She held out one hand, smiling in the fake way that Jughead had seen her level in response to burglars. JB took the hand and flashed an equally unfriendly smile in reply.

“I’m Veronica Lodge, Archie’s girlfriend,” said the petite brunette, her eyes flashing territorially. 

At the reminder, Archie slid his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. He seemed unaware of the tension between the two girls at the table, or he was just a better actor than Jughead. The latter was unlikely, and he sighed inwardly—Archie could be too oblivious sometimes. 

“It’s a pleasure,” JB replied to Veronica, tossing her hair over her shoulder in that floaty way she’d been doing all night. Jughead guessed that he’d been right at the trailer when he interpreted it as if a rattlesnake was fanning its head in preparation for a strike.

Veronica looked over at Jughead. “And how does JB know you and Archie?” she asked, her voice lingering over her boyfriend’s name. Jughead thought she might have been laying it on too thick, but he was slightly understanding of his sister’s alarming presence.

“JB is my little sister,” he said, relishing the word ‘little’ as if using it was taking back a bit of his dignity. He smiled over at her, despite the warning crease that had formed between her brows. “She’s been staying in Toledo with my mom, but they’re moving back to Riverdale now. I don’t think they’re ever going back.”

She kicked him under the table, just hard enough that he couldn’t help reacting. He hadn’t been expecting it—and those black boots hurt like hell.

Veronica looked at JB and relaxed a little bit, the tension visibly releasing from her small frame. “Oh, that sucks,” she commented. “But I know how it feels to suddenly be trapped in Riverdale, JB.” Hearing that they had something in common, it was clear that Veronica had opted for a fresh start.

Archie caressed her arm with the hand draped around her shoulders. “Ronnie is from New York,” he explained, smiling over at his girlfriend. 

JB didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, that explains the smell of privileged entitlement filling this booth. Thanks, Archie.”

Veronica frowned and opened her mouth to defend herself, but the door bell clattered to life at that moment. Betty hadn’t kicked in the door, but she may as well have, based on the timing with which she’d appeared at Jughead’s rescue. She smiled brightly when she caught his eyes and drifted toward the table. 

“Sorry, I had a little issue at home,” she apologized. Jughead slid closer to his sister in the booth to make room for her, not bothering to be gentle about it. He considered it payback for the kick.

Veronica was still angry about JB’s comment, and it was written as plain as day across her face. Betty frowned at the expression, looking quizzically over at Jughead.

“No problem, Bets. We were just about to remind _Jellybean_ about manners,” he said, emphasizing his sister’s nickname.

Her face darkened and she elbowed him as she readjusted her position in the booth. “ _That was a mistake_ ,” his sister hissed under her breath. 

He chose to ignore her. Betty leaned over and smiled warmly at JB, also ignoring the tension. He was grateful somewhat for her attempt to smooth out the situation, but after what had been said already, he doubted that even the sunniest smile would save the night.

“It’s been so long, Jellybean! How was Toledo? I hear it’s beautiful in the winter,” she said brightly. 

Archie butted in with, “It’s JB, now, Betty.” His voice almost sounded sarcastic, which Jughead found fairly impressive coming from Archie. He must have been feeling the need to get some payback for Veronica, too.

Betty smiled again, looking back over at his sister. “That’s fine,” she said. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

Pop Tate came by with a pad to take their orders. He looked over the four familiar faces in the booth and said, “Will it be the usual, kids?”

Jughead glanced up. “Yes please, Pop.”

He looked over at JB. “And how about your friend?” he asked.

She smiled innocently up at him. “It’s been a long time, Pop! Do you still have double chocolate milkshakes?”

He squinted at her and smiled. “Jellybean Jones? It has been a while. Coming right up.”

He left the table and the five teens looked at one another for a moment. The tension was almost tangible. 

“So why did you decide to change your nickname, JB?” Betty asked, looking over with an innocent eye flutter. Jughead felt her hand slip into his, and he squeezed gratefully.

His sister was quiet for a second, but then she flashed her most predatory smirk. “That nickname was stupid,” she said with fake sweetness. Deep down, Jughead felt a small twinge of disappointment at her attitude concerning the nickname he’d given her when they were little. But disappointment was something he knew how to handle, at least. His sister began to twist a lock of hair around her finger as she glanced at him and added, “Almost as bad as a name like Forsythe Pendleton the third.”

He was amused by her childish attempt to upset him. Jughead briefly saw Veronica mouthing his real name to Archie with a bewildered expression, but he looked at his sister instead.

“Forsythia it is, sis,” he shot back, satisfied to see the irritation flash over her face.

Veronica couldn’t contain herself at that. “Wait—are you saying that your name,” she looked at Jughead, “is actually Forsythe, and your name,” she turned to Jellybean, “is Forsythia?”

Jughead was definitely amused now. “What kind of sick parents did you think we had, to name us Jughead and Jellybean?” He asked, almost laughing.

Archie was smirking too. “Forsythe and Forsythia aren’t much better,” he commented. Jughead wasn’t hurt—he’d had years to come to terms with anything that anyone might say about his birth name. He’d outed JB on the off chance that she hadn’t quite relegated herself to her fate in the same way that he had.

Even Betty was choking back a laugh. “I can’t believe you guys are fighting about nicknames,” she said.

Jellybean wasn’t laughing, though. She’d let herself show her true irritation long enough for everyone to notice it, and that sweet doll-like expression wasn’t coming back any time soon. Apparently, Jughead had found a real sore spot. Well, consider that repayment for the comments she’d made to his friends, then. Pop delivered their food and milkshakes at the perfect moment, just as she’d opened her mouth to say something—probably whatever caustic comment she could think of as a comeback.

Jughead slid her milkshake over and happily began eating his cheeseburger. Jellybean took the wrapper off the straw and stuck it through the mountain of whipped cream, while Betty began drinking her strawberry milkshake too. Archie and Veronica were splitting a plate of cheese fries, with a judicial stack of napkins on standby. For a moment, they were quiet over their mutual appreciation of Pop’s fare.

Then Veronica looked over at Betty. “Did you know that he’s the third, B? Why didn’t anyone tell me about this?”

Jughead shrugged. “It’s a family thing, I guess,” he commented.

Betty glanced over at him. “I think everyone in Riverdale knows, V. The substitute teachers say it every time.” He and Veronica had yet to share a class at Riverdale High together, so she wouldn’t have known.

He glanced over at JB. “Oh yeah, prepare yourself for that, Forsythia.”

She kicked him again, perhaps not as hard as the first time because now he was expecting it. Jughead smiled thinly back at her, this time unflinching.

“Oh, you’re going to Riverdale High?” Betty asked, looking across Jughead at his sister. “That’s cute, we can look out for you and stuff.”

JB bristled. Maybe cute wasn’t a word she was used to hearing. “I don’t need any of you backwater small-town losers doing me any favors,” she spat.

Apparently the milkshake had lost its healing magic, too. Jughead was starting to think that something was seriously wrong here, that there was something he needed to find out about his sister’s time in Toronto. It wouldn’t be as simple as asking, though, since she’d made it clear that she wasn’t willing to talk. He wondered vaguely if his dad knew anything, recalling FP’s look at dinner.

He saw Betty check her phone under the table. She typed out a quick text and flipped it over. “You know, a lot of people have died in Riverdale this past year,” Betty commented out loud, her tone losing the last of its cheer.

JB’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a threat?” She asked, her voice deepening with fury.

Betty blinked. “No, just the truth.”

Veronica chose that moment to jump in. “A lot of them have been students who got caught up in the wrong thing at the wrong time, actually,” she observed, being truthful.

Jughead swallowed the last of his cheeseburger and wiped his hands with a napkin before dropping it on his empty plate. He glanced over at Jellybean. Based on her expression, she definitely took it as a threat.

“I’m leaving,” she said, her voice cool. “Forsythe, let me out.”

He frowned. “You can’t take the bike,” he pointed out.

His sister glared at him. “I’d rather walk,” she said.

It was more than a mile home, and by now it was well after sunset, but Jughead wasn’t going to argue after all the crap she’d pulled tonight. He nudged Betty.

“You can’t be serious,” she hissed, frowning at him. “Jellybean is still a kid, really. So many things could happen.”

Jughead nudged again and said, “She’s made it clear that it’s not my problem, or my choice. I’m not her keeper any more.”

Betty sighed but got up, letting Jughead slide out of the booth. JB glared around at all of them before slipping out herself.

“I’d say it’s been a pleasure, but it hasn’t been,” she drawled, flipping her hair over her shoulder. JB made her way to the door, the jingle of the bells signaling her departure into the night.

Jughead slumped on the table after watching her go. “I’m not sure that I can go home,” he said. “I feel like she might cut my throat in my sleep.”

Betty patted his back. “I know how you feel,” she said empathetically. Jughead gave her a grateful look. Out of everyone in Riverdale, she probably did understand the most what it was like to have a treacherous sibling at home.

Veronica made an impatient noise. “Well, I’m sorry Jughead, but your little sister is a Grade A bitch.”

“It was kind of funny how she tried to out you from your nickname, though,” Archie commented.

“But not funny how she treated all of us,” Veronica corrected, her eyes flashing. 

Jughead groaned and closed his eyes. “Sorry, guys,” he said. “I had no idea she would be this way.”

Betty rubbed his back a bit and he looked up at her, grateful again for her support. “We should probably go after her,” she suggested.

Jughead sighed, fishing his keys out of his pocket. He could think of a hundred things he wanted to do more than go after his sister, but Betty was right. They’d been sharing the truth with her, whether or not she wanted to hear it. Riverdale wasn’t safe, especially not for teenagers at night.

Cue the Lodges, who were still pushing forward with their plans for a prison. The low-income housing development they’d been putting in where Southside High used to stand was supposed to be a step up for those living in Sunnyside, but Jughead knew that it was all a part of their plan for gentrification.

He glanced over at Veronica, who had been largely cut out of her parents’ business dealings at her own request. Despite JB’s searing insults, she looked worried too. 

Jughead took Betty’s hand and let her slide out of the booth, pulling him along with her. “I’ll be right back, V,” she said.

They walked out to the parking lot. Jughead leaned against his bike and pulled out his helmet, sighing heavily. 

“It will be okay,” Betty said reassuringly. “We’ve dealt with so much worse, Jug. She’s still your sister.”

That was the truth, again. He slipped his hands over her hips and pulled her close, looking into her impossibly beautiful eyes.

Betty leaned forward and kissed him, slipping her tongue along his bottom lip before letting it slide easily against his as their lips parted. He squeezed her closer, closing his eyes. At least, even if everything else went wrong, this was right. He watched Betty head back into the neon glow of the diner before he pulled on his helmet and roared out of the lot.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juggie gets suspended, and detective!Betty noticed something at home.

Jughead survived the night, at least, but perhaps it was because he was once again sharing the pull out couch with his dad while his mom and sister took the bedroom. He’d found JB walking and she’d refused to get on the bike, so Jughead had been forced to idle home alongside her. Whatever nastiness she might have leveled at his friends, Betty was right. She was still his sister.

As they prepared for school on Monday, he offered her the Riverdale High polo that had been imposed as dress code on the Southside students. Jughead was already wearing his zip up sweater under his leather jacket.

JB was taking her sweet time in the bathroom, carefully brushing mascara over her lashes in a ritualistic fashion. She glanced over with a disgusted expression when he held out the shirt.

“I am not wearing that,” she said.

Luckily, Gladys was leaning against the wall of the hallway with a cup of coffee. “Yes, you are. And you’ll listen to your brother today, young lady. He’ll keep you out of trouble.”

It was said to admonish JB, but also sort of like a warning for Jughead. He glanced at his mom and flashed a reassuring smile. What had FP told her about her teenaged son? Jughead got the impression from that statement that she thought he was more often in trouble than out of it.

Before he could worry too much about it, his phone buzzed in his pocket. _BG room asap,_ read the message. Jughead frowned at Betty’s sense of urgency, thumbing his way into his messaging app to reply. 

_Everything okay?_ he messaged back.

No immediate response. JB snatched the shirt out of his hand, almost knocking his phone to the ground. Jughead went into the living room and tugged his beanie into place while he waited for her to finish getting ready.

Gladys sipped her coffee quietly, turning with a smile as FP appeared from the bedroom. He was just buttoning a shirt that Jughead had never seen before, looking like he was about to head into an office.

“We thought your dad could drop you both off at school today,” his mom said. Jughead frowned at that.

“I can give JB a ride on my bike,” he replied. “But thanks, Mom.”

Gladys looked at FP, who frowned at his son. “Jughead, your mom doesn’t think it’s safe for you and your sister to ride my motorcycle, and I agree.”

Of all the times for FP to decide to parent. Jughead stared at his dad for a minute, but the expression he got in return told him that there was no getting around this. Well, fine. He’d get Betty or Archie to drop him off after school, or maybe catch a ride with Fangs if he had to. The liberating thing about this idea was that he wouldn’t have to worry about JB at the end of the day.

He tucked his laptop into his backpack and dropped his keys on the table, looking over at his mom. She smiled and reached out to tuck a lock of hair away from his face.

“Maybe I can wash your hat,” she commented, pursing her lips.

Jughead took a quick backwards step. “No, thanks Mom.”

His sister emerged from the bathroom, wearing his shirt with a knot above her bellybutton like a crop top. JB picked up a little backpack that was shaped like a skull and crossbones. She slung it over her shoulder and put a hand on her hip.

“Won’t we be late?” she asked, frowning innocently.

Gladys smiled fondly at her and turned to FP. “Good luck, sweetheart,” she said, kissing his cheek.

With that bizarre morning complete, Jughead and JB followed their dad out to the newly unpacked Accord. He made to get into the passenger seat, but JB gave him a glare so thick with malice that he wordlessly went for the back.

His dad glanced at him in the rear view mirror as he put the car in reverse, but didn’t say anything. Jughead wondered where on earth FP was heading today, dressed like that and needing good luck. They drove wordlessly to Riverdale High, aside from JB turning on some insipid pop music on the car radio and singing quietly along.

When they arrived at school, FP turned to her and said, “Listen to your brother. I’ll be here at 3:30 to pick you both up.”

JB smiled sweetly and said, “Okay, Dad.”

Jughead was out of the car as quickly as he could be, without a glance back. JB matched his pace and looked around. She hadn’t attended Riverdale High before she left. When she and their mom went to Toronto, she was still in elementary school.

He gestured her toward the main office. “Stop in there to get your schedule. I’ve got somewhere to be. They usually assign someone to show you around. I guess you can text if there’s a problem.”

She rolled her eyes. “Like you could do anything about it,” she snapped, turning toward the office.

Jughead ran over in his mind all the things he’d done within the last year that might change her tune, but he pushed those thoughts aside. He was trying to remain as good as possible, for Betty. Whatever darkness was forced to surface in him, it was always from necessity.

Leaving JB and the problems associated with her, he made a beeline for the Blue and Gold office. Betty still hadn’t answered his text message.

She was waiting for him when he walked in the door, and she pushed it closed quickly behind him. “There you are,” Betty said, her voice tinged with anxiety. “We have to talk about a few things. But right now, I’ve been assigned as JB’s peer ambassador, and I have to meet her in the office.”

Jughead blinked in surprise. “Why didn’t they choose someone from her class?” He asked, frowning.

Betty smiled weakly. “I think that right now I might make up the whole student hospitality committee.”

He let out a deep breath. “Well, good luck. She’s hardly a ray of sunshine. Text me if she says anything too horrible.”

Betty nodded solemnly. “Okay,” she said. Then she quickly added, “I saw something this morning, on my mom’s phone. I’ll tell you about it later.”

Alarm bells chorused in his mind, making him frown in response. Betty stood on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss before rushing out the door. 

Jughead settled into his desk, pulling his laptop out of his bag. He opened the latest article he was working on for the school paper, glancing it over for any editing mistakes.

He worked until the bell rang to signal first period beginning, and then he gathered his stuff and walked into the hallway. There were several immediate signs that something was extremely wrong.

First, there was a bizarre silence punctuated by short bursts of feminine shrieking. Second, students were lining the hallway in petrified observation of whatever was unfolding. As he emerged from the Blue and Gold office, a few students turned toward him in surprise.

Jughead caught sight of Toni, still holding hands with Cheryl Blossom on the opposite side of the hall. She looked at him with a shocked expression, mouthing his name.

He pushed through the crowd like it was a slow motion cutscene, his eyes struggling to make sense of the scene that unfolded.

JB and Betty were fighting, the former trying her best to sink her manicured fingernails into the latter’s face.

Jughead instantly jumped into the fray, allowing Betty to gratefully take shelter behind him as he caught his sister’s wrists. “Stop it, Jellybean!” he snapped. 

She burst into tears.

Over his shoulder, he heard Betty break out in a sob, too. Glancing over, Jughead was torn between the desire to put his arms around her, and the need to keep his sister from wildly attacking anyone else.

Weatherbee broke into the circle at that moment, taking one look over the scene before saying, “You three, my office, now.”

Jughead let go of JB’s wrists, allowing her to follow behind Weatherbee as he turned to check on Betty. She dashed furiously at her eyes, glaring after the younger Jones. Around them, students went reluctantly into their classes. It was unlikely that anyone would be talking about anything else by the time lunch rolled around.

He gave Betty a questioning look, but she shook her head and twisted her lips to the side.

They entered the office and Weatherbee gestured to the school nurse, who brought an ice pack for the red lump blossoming over Jellybean’s cheek and the bruises spreading around Betty’s eye and nose. He glanced at Jughead and said, “Do you require any first aid, Mr Jones?”

Jughead shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said, crossing his arms.

Weatherbee settled behind his desk and folded his hands. “Now, you will each explain yourselves. In detail,” he said, his voice humming with authority.

Met with stony silence from both girls, Jughead decided to clear his name first. “I was just heading to class when I saw the fight,” he said. “I’m wondering what happened too.” The statement was directed like an arrow at his sister, but Betty was the one who took a shuddering breath.

“It’s my fault, Principal Weatherbee,” she said. “Jellybean said a few things about Riverdale that I didn’t like, and I don’t know what came over me.”

Jughead could see that she was covering for his sister, for some reason. Judging the look on Betty’s face, those words couldn’t have been further from the truth. Luckily, Principal Weatherbee wasn’t buying it either.

He looked over his hands at JB, his expression somber. She was still crying softly until he spoke. “Your old school has sent your records,” he commented.

The crocodile tears dried instantly. She straightened in her chair, adjusting the ice pack. “So?” JB demanded, the word flying from her mouth like a bullet.

Weatherbee was silent for a moment. “I’m going to contact your parents. This sort of behavior was not acceptable in Toledo, and it will not be acceptable in Riverdale. Each of you will receive a three day out of school suspension.”

Betty stiffened. “But sir, Jughead—“

Weatherbee waved one hand to interrupt. “Apparently, the Jones family needs a message about the manner in which we behave at a public school.”

She slumped back in her chair. Jughead appreciated her attempt to stand up for him, but he wasn’t surprised that Weatherbee was taking the opportunity to kick him out too. He reached over and slipped his hand into hers, more concerned about what Alice Cooper would say when she got wind of this.

All three were sent out of the office as he made the calls. Sitting in chairs in the hallway, Jughead leaned over and gave his sister a hard look. 

“So what really happened?” He asked, glaring. “Now that you’ve let Betty take the fall for you.” JB pressed her glossed lips together and looked away from them both. Jughead leaned closer to her, not willing to let it go. “I don’t need any more suspensions on my record, either, _Jellybean_ ,” he hissed.

She shot a glare in his direction. “Just told your bitchy, fake girlfriend the truth. She didn’t like it and she lost her shit,” she muttered, adjusting her ice pack.

Jughead looked incredulously at Betty. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell you later,” she mouthed, before looking down at her hands. Jughead saw that she’d reopened the crescent shaped scars on her palms, just enough to bleed some paper-cut sized droplets. He slipped his hand into hers, covering the wounds. 

Anger swirled in the back of his mind, rising up from that place deep within where he relegated all his inner darkness. He was furious that anyone would have caused Betty enough pain and distress to make her injure herself. If it had been anyone but his sister, he would have made them sorry for upsetting his girlfriend. As it was, he was starting to imagine ways that he could make her life miserable anyway.

Weatherbee stepped into the hall and looked down at the three of them. “Your parents are on the way,” he informed them.

Betty sighed, sliding down in her chair. Their only hope now was that FP would make it to the school before Alice did.

Strangely, they arrived simultaneously. Alice rushed to Betty, catching her chin with her hands and angling her face to look at the black eye that was blossoming over her perfect skin. “Oh, Elizabeth!” She gasped, then shot a glare at Jughead and Jellybean. 

FP crossed his arms and looked down at both of his kids, with the sort of irritated expression he usually reserved for the most out of line Serpents. Jughead was getting irritated by how often he found that look leveled in his direction lately, especially when this situation was not his fault at all.

“Come on,” he said quietly, the rage palpable in his tone.

Jughead and Jellybean rose, the latter clutching her ice pack to her cheek. Alice sighed and gestured to Betty.

“FP is going to drop us off at home, Betty. If we can trust the three of you to share a ride without getting into a brawl, of course.”

Betty and Jughead exchanged glances. She had her eyebrow quirked in a way that told him she had suspicions about the carpool, and he remembered that she’d had something to say in the Blue and Gold office that morning. When she took her phone out of her pocket, though, her mother reached over and confiscated it wordlessly.

Jughead continued to hold Betty’s hand as they got into the back seat of the Accord. He put himself between the two girls, not paying his sister any attention. FP drove to the Cooper house in silence. He parked across the street. Alice thanked him for the ride and opened her door, saying, “Come on, Betty.”

Before she got out of the car, Jughead kissed her palms. Who knew when she’d get her phone back from her mother? Betty cast her sad eyes in his direction and didn’t dare sneak a real kiss, but got out of the car and followed her mother across the street.

Jughead immediately slid as far away from his sister as he could.

FP looked into the rear view mirror again, his expression darkening now that they were alone. 

“Your Mom and I are going to do everything we can to make this work. I know it’s not easy, and neither of you may be happy about it. But I’m not going to put up with this sort of bullshit,” he said flatly.

Jughead glared defensively back at the reflection in the mirror. “Believe it or not, but this was all Jellybean’s fault,” he said.

She crossed her arms and looked out the window of the back seat, pursing her lips. The mark on her cheek was already starting to fade, as opposed to Betty’s black and blue shiner.

FP looked in her direction through the rear view mirror, frowning. “Betty Cooper is a sweet kid,” he commented. “I can’t imagine her starting a fight, JB.”

His sister made a noise that might have been her breath hitching for a sob. Jughead was still too angry with her to care. He thought of something that Weatherbee had said, then, too. 

“Did you get expelled in Toledo?” He asked, glancing over at her.

“Shut up,” JB whispered, not turning.

Jughead narrowed his eyes and adjusted his beanie. “You did, didn’t you?”

“I said, shut up,” said his sister, her voice raising a little bit in volume and pitch.

“That’s what they meant about your records. Jesus, JB. Did you fight there too?”

“Shut the fuck up,” JB snapped, turning to shoot a piercing glare at him.

FP glanced over his shoulder, then, looking at them directly. “Language,” he cautioned. “Leave her alone, Jughead.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, after his sister had just given his girlfriend a black eye. Jughead ignored FP, crossed his arms and continued to needle her. “That’s it, right? You were expelled, and got kicked out of Gram and Gramp’s, and that’s why you guys had to come back to Riverdale.”

JB glared at him with unbridled fury, then. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” she almost shrieked. “I took your girlfriend, and I can take you too,” she threatened, clenching her fists.

FP slammed on the brakes, causing them both to fall forward into the back of the driver and passenger seats. “No one says another word,” he shouted, glaring at them both.

Jughead wasn’t going to push it any more, now that he felt he’d hit so close to the truth. Judging by JB’s reaction, he had to almost have it. Whatever had happened in Toledo had definitely been her fault, then. He looked out the window and tried to decide how he would go about uncovering the truth.

JB had made the critical mistake of making this irrevocably personal.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Bughead alone time, a tiny bit of Falice confirmation, and big news for the Jones kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get just a wee bit smutty between Jug and Betty in this one, just a warning.

Gladys wasn’t home when they got there. Jughead set his backpack down next to the couch and crashed, throwing one arm over his eyes. He didn’t want to look at anyone in his screwed up family at the moment, or speak.

FP and JB took a minute to come inside. Jughead heard them speaking through the thin walls of the trailer, though he couldn’t make out exactly what was being said. He wished that he could text Betty and find out what she wanted to tell him.

When his dad came inside, he marched JB to the bedroom and told her to stay there. A minute later, he walked into the living room.

“What do you think you were doing in the car, boy?” he asked, irritation clear in his tone.

Jughead didn’t move his arm. “What were you doing with Mrs. Cooper, Dad?”

In less time than a heartbeat, FP had his fist wrapped in the collar of Jughead’s t-shirt. Startled, he lowered his arm and made eye contact with the older Serpent.

“What did you fucking say,” FP swore, getting in his face. The way he said it, neither one mistook the statement as a question. As soon as he let go, Jughead was off the couch.

“What the hell,” he snapped, grabbing his backpack and moving unconsciously toward the door. “I’m out. I don’t know what’s going on, and clearly no one is going to tell me.” He fumbled for the doorknob, finally turning away from his dad’s irate stare to glance at it. Jughead opened the door and let himself out into the crisp air of the morning.

FP shouted something behind him, but it was lost in the roar of the motorcycle starting. Jughead curved out of Sunnyside, heading for the other half of town. 

When he reached Betty’s house, he found the driveway blissfully empty. Jughead parked his bike and took the stairs to her front door two at a time. He knocked and waited for a moment, realizing that he hadn’t fixed his shirt after being roughed up by FP. He tugged it back into place, raising a hand to check his beanie in the same motion.

Betty appeared at the door, a bag of frozen peas over her black eye. She smiled lightly when she saw him.

“My Mom went grocery shopping. We have maybe an hour,” she said, stepping aside to let him in. 

Jughead closed the distance between them as she shut the front door, snaking one arm around her waist while he desperately kissed her soft lips. Betty melted against him, lowering her ice pack. He cupped her face in his hands, making his way along her jaw before tenderly covering her bruises in the gentlest of kisses.

“I’m so sorry, Betts,” he whispered, feeling his eyes burn with emotion as he looked at her discolored face.

She sighed. “It’s alright, Juggie, I’ll live.” Betty stepped back a pace from him and took his hand, pulling him toward the stairs. “Come with me,” she said.

Jughead let her lead him upstairs, and then let her pull his hands towards her as she drew him down onto her bed. They kissed aimlessly, just enjoying the ability to relax in one another’s company. He cherished these private moments, when prying eyes weren’t around to level judgement on their unlikely relationship. He smoothed a hand over her silken blonde hair, thinking again about how he’d gotten so lucky.

For a little bit, they just lay there and looked into one another’s eyes. Jughead thought again about how he could get back at his sister for inflicting this sort of pain on Betty, his fingers lightly tracing over her bruises.

He nestled himself closer to her. “I love you, Betty Cooper,” he whispered against her neck, enjoying the shiver that ran through her body at the sensation. 

She ran her hands over his back, her fingers gently caressing the Serpent colors on the back of his leather jacket. Arching into his touch, she replied, “I love you too, Jughead Jones.”

He let his hand play over her hip, and in response she shifted so that she could pull her shirt over her head. Jughead sucked in a breath when he saw the curve of her prefect breasts beneath the cups of her lacy yellow bra. He kissed his way down her neck, letting her slip her hands under his jacket and shed it from his frame. Betty continued her mission, her hands finding the hem of his shirt and running along his abs until they curled over his chest.

He moaned against her, letting Betty strip away his T-shirt. They kissed again with urgency, as if any second their lips were apart was a second too many. Betty was moaning now too, letting her fingers work their way over the button of his jeans. As she skimmed her fingers over the sensitive skin where his hips dipped inward, he couldn’t help a shiver that ran from his head to his feet and curled his toes in anticipation.

He fumbled for the clasp of her bra, ready to feel her skin against his. As his fingers slipped over silky smooth lingerie across her back, he made a noise of frustration.

Betty smiled against his mouth. “It’s a front clasp,” she whispered.

“What?” Jughead said. She may have spoken in Sanskrit for all that he understood her meaning.

She reached up and found a plastic connector between her breasts, twisting it with a simple gesture and shrugging out of her bra. 

He slipped his hands over her perfect mounds, pausing over the little buttons of her petal-pink nipples. Betty slid deliciously close to him, letting him smooth his hands over her until he found the waistband of her skirt. He tugged it down, their eyes meeting in unspoken agreement.

She curled away from him and reached along the side of her bed for a moment. When she returned, she was brandishing a little foil packet and a devious smile. 

Jughead returned the expression and said, “I’m glad you’re prepared, Betts.”

She tore open the foil with her teeth, and Jughead was fairly certain that there was nowhere else on the face of the Earth he’d rather be. For a few blissful moments, they were able to surrender to one another. Whatever inner darkness either was harboring didn’t matter as their bodies melded and their minds emptied of everything besides ecstasy. He kissed her scarred palms as she pushed him onto his back, her knees sliding alongside his hips. She threw her head back as she found the right position, her mouth forming wordless shapes amidst her gasps and moans.

Afterwards, Jughead pulled her back against his chest, fitting inside the curl of his body. They lay there in happy silence, measuring the rise and fall of one another’s bodies as they breathed together. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against her neck, referring to her yellowing bruises. 

She turned to face him, tucking her head onto his shoulder. “It’s not your fault,” she said. “I shouldn’t have gotten so angry.”

He frowned. “What did she say?” He asked. Honestly, he’d been wondering since he’d broken up the fight in the first place.

Betty exhaled and closed her eyes, collecting her thoughts. “She said that your mom knew about your dad and my mom,” she explained. Her voice lowered. “Then she said that you and I didn’t mean anything, just like my mom means nothing to your dad, and that I was a slut and an idiot for letting you have me, and that you would always think of me as a Northside princess that could never be a part of your world.”

Ah, that did sound more like Jellybean, and more like a reason for Betty to punch her. He tightened his hold on his beautiful girlfriend and kissed the top of her head. 

“She’s a bitch,” he swore, deciding that he would definitely have to get back at his sister somehow for the things she’d said to Betty.

She shrugged and pulled him closer. “Just tell me that none of it was true, Juggie.”

He recalled her attempt to join the Serpents, the drama they had gone through with her mom. Now, more than ever, he wished they’d been successful with it. Knowing that the Serpents had Betty’s back might make JB hesitate before she started unnecessary drama, next time.

Jughead traced a finger over her hip. “Jellybean doesn’t know what she’s talking about, Betty. She hardly knows me, and barely knows you. I love you more than anything. Sometimes I still can’t believe this is real.”

She smiled hesitantly up at him, her expression one of true contentment. “I feel the same way,” she admitted. “I love you so much sometimes that it’s scary.”

He knew the feeling she was talking about, like the whole world would evaporate if there were some reason that they were permanently separated. In response, he squeezed her a bit tighter. Betty tilted up her face and kissed him languidly. Then she began to disentangle herself, picking up her discarded clothing from the floor.

Jughead took the cue and began dressing again too, not wanting Alice Cooper to catch either of them. They were in enough trouble as it was. He glanced over at Betty as she smoothed her shirt back into place, then picked up his Serpent coat off the ground. 

She walked him downstairs, both of them knowing that nothing good would come from her mother discovering them alone in the house together. 

“I’m going to get her to tell me the truth,” Jughead said, promising himself as much as he was promising Betty. The statement seemed to remind her of something, and she caught his hand before he made it to the door.

“I forgot to tell you,” she said. “I saw some text messages on my mom’s phone this morning. Jellybean wasn’t lying about them being together.”

Jughead sighed deeply, wondering what they were going to do with that bit of information. He wondered if his mom did, in fact, know. Time was running out at the moment, though, so he gave Betty one last kiss. “I’ll come back tomorrow,” he promised, since they were out of school for three days together anyway. Betty nodded and smiled faintly.

“I’ll be waiting,” she said in a sultry voice, one that made his insides feel like mush. 

Jughead started the bike and left the Northside, heading back to the trailer. He didn’t particularly want to face his dad or his sister, but there was still the mysterious appearance of FP in a button-down that morning to sleuth out. Checking his phone at a stoplight to see the time, he decided to swing by the Wyrm before heading home. Maybe someone there knew what his dad had been up to.

He hesitated when he saw the Accord parked outside, but then decided that he’d done enough panicking for the week and found a parking space.

When Jughead entered the Whyte Wyrm, he immediately realized that some sort of celebration was underway. First, he noticed that his mom was serving as the bartender again. He’d spent hours here when he was little, looking after Jellybean while his mom worked and his dad played pool with the Serpents. Though she’d taken a few years’ hiatus, it appeared that they’d given her the old job back without a fuss.

Second, his dad was slamming back a shot with a few of the older Serpents, an unmistakable smile on his face.

Jughead didn’t bother trying to hide. He walked straight over to the bar and took a seat. 

Gladys gave him a disapproving look, then put an empty cup in front of him. For an insane moment, he thought that she was going to give him whatever the others were having, but she angled the soda gun over the rim and filled it with water.

“Your father told me why you’re not in school,” she said. “And your sister. I think you should both stay away from the Coopers, from now on.”

Jughead couldn’t help looking at her with irritation. “Mom, I’m not breaking up with Betty. Whatever problem you have with her family, it doesn’t apply to her. JB provoked her and started the fight.”

Gladys shook her head. “No, Jughead, I’ve known the Coopers much longer than you. That’s what Alice does—she makes people think she’s on their side, until she’s done using them. Betty is just taking advantage of you.”

Jughead glared outright. “Well, Mom, thanks for the concern. But you haven’t really cared too much about what happens to me before now, so I think I’ll take my chances with Betty.”

She looked as if he’d slapped her. Taking a deep breath, she leaned over the bar and glanced in the direction of FP. “If you would stop being such a delinquent for one minute, you might rethink that after you hear the good news. We’re moving,” she hissed.

He felt his blood turn to ice. “What? Where?” He asked, frowning.

With a triumphant smile, his mom said, “Your Dad convinced the bank to approve the loan this morning. We’re moving into one of those new houses that Lodge Industries just put up. We found a three bedroom house with an attached garage, and central air. No more trailer park for our family. This is what we’ve been working towards—well, all of your life.”

Jughead blinked. Two weeks ago, it might have been happy news. A deep part of his core was offended that they’d purchased anything supporting Hiram Lodge’s twisted town agenda, but he could have looked past that for the sake of his mom and sister. After everything that had happened in the last two days, though—and the insane notion that he’d break up with Betty over their moving into a house—he didn’t share an ounce of his mother’s excitement.

He stood up from his seat and took a step back from the bar. “That’s great, mom,” he said, offering the ghost of a smile. “I’m going to head home, then. Does JB know?”

Gladys smiled brightly. “Seems like it, since she’s posted all about how excited she is online already.”

Jughead found that confusing, since JB hardly shared any personal information online. He wondered what his mom was talking about. But he didn’t want to stay at the Wyrm any longer and hear her opinion of his girlfriend. Turning, he went back outside and sped off for home.

JB was laying across the bed when he checked, her thumbs tapping endlessly on her cell phone. Jughead backed away from the door before she noticed him, pretending to go into the bathroom instead so that she wouldn’t get suspicious about the footsteps. You could hear everything in the trailer, whether you tried or not.

He pulled up his social media apps, cycling through each and verifying that JB hadn’t shared any updates in weeks. Frowning, he made for the living room and opened his laptop.

He’d never tried very hard to search online for information about his sister, never thinking that there was any reason. Opening the full websites for every social media platform he could think of, he cycled through each one by searching for a combination of her nickname, second nickname, or birth name.

Finally, he stumbled across something interesting on Snap. The account he was familiar with came right up when he searched “Jellybean Jones”, but when he searched “JB Jones” a different profile entirely flashed across the screen.

He clicked on the name, scrolling over whatever public information he could find. Looking at the icon, it was clear that this was his sister. She was posing with her lips pursed, her fingers in a V around her left eye.

Okay, so she had added him on a decoy account for some reason. Their mom was allowed access to her real account. However strange he found the effort behind that setup, he was sure there had to be a reason.

Jughead backed out of the website and went to Google, entering her birth name. Pages of websites trying to sell him data popped up, along with one PDF from a Toledo high school. He clicked the link and skimmed the document until he found “Forsythia Jones” halfway down the page.

Her name was under a captioned photo of fifteen uniformed girls, all gathered together and smiling at the photographer. It appeared that they were a cheerleading squad, smaller than the River Vixens.

He wondered what else JB had concealed about her life, and why she had gone to such lengths to keep him in the dark. Jughead was fairly sure that FP wasn’t privy to her real social media accounts either, since his dad could hardly navigate Netflix, let alone maintain any online presence.

He made a mental note to bring this all up to Betty tomorrow. They’d compare notes on their parents, and he would tell her about their impending move.

Jughead wondered if their new house would be haunted, since it was essentially built on an Indian burial ground. Also, now the bones of Southside High. That seemed to be double negative karma.

The nearby roar of a familiar engine cut him out of his thoughts. Jughead jerked to his feet and went to the door, just fast enough to see a flash of brunette hair flying from beneath a customized helmet. He grabbed his phone off the coffee table and shut his laptop, scanning the kitchen counter for his keys.

How had she snuck out of the bedroom and took his keys without him noticing? He was cursing his sister over and over in his mind, simultaneously praying that she didn’t hurt herself or the motorcycle on her joyride.

Jughead unlocked his phone and opened his contacts, not hesitating as he stabbed a finger on the only name he could think of to call for help.

“Hey, Archie? I need you to pick me up as soon as you can.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archie comes to Jug's rescue, and JB gets a little bit more unbearable.

Jughead felt as if he might jump out of his own skin at any moment. He was sitting on the steps outside the trailer, praying that Archie pulled in before either of his parents did. How was he going to explain that JB was gone? It was one thing for _him_ to ride the bike around town, but his sister was still basically a kid no matter how tough she acted.

Archie’s stupid blue convertible pulled up first, his red hair ruffled from the drive across town with the top down. He was hardly parked when Jughead was jumping into the passenger seat.

“She stole my motorcycle,” he said, instantly thumbing open his phone. Jughead had been text messaging everyone he could think of that wouldn’t go running to his dad, telling them to keep an eye out for an underaged driver on a motorcycle. He pasted his message in a conversation thread with Toni Topaz and punched “send”. 

Archie stared at him. “Betty?” he asked, frowning.

“No, JB,” Jughead snapped impatiently. “I’m still not sure—“

Just as he was about to hit send on a message to Fangs, his phone buzzed. A message from Toni rolled over the top of the screen.

 _She’s at Thornhill,_ it read.

Jughead turned to Archie. “Thornhill,” he said quickly, glancing anxiously around to check for his parents. Still no sign. Archie put the convertible in reverse and turned to leave the trailer park, accelerating so quickly that he splashed mud all over the side of his powder blue paint job.

Neither of the boys in the car seemed to care as they raced toward the Blossom estate. “She must be at Cheryl’s party,” Archie mused, frowning.

Jughead glanced over. “Betty didn’t say anything about a party,” he commented.

Archie pressed his lips together before saying, “Well, I don’t think Betty got invited. Ronnie did, and I think after the fight everyone thought Betty needed some time to cool off.”

Jughead couldn’t help raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Did you see it happen?” 

His ginger haired friend stopped for a red light, glancing around the intersection as they waited. “No, I was already in class,” he said. “I heard that Betty was fierce, though.”

Jughead sighed. “Well, JB said some nasty things, so I’m not shocked.”

Archie seemed to debate saying anything else, but his loyalty to Jughead won out over whatever misgivings he was considering. “I think Cheryl is throwing this party for JB, actually,” he said carefully. “From what Ronnie said, it’s a party to welcome her to Riverdale.”

Jughead blinked, completely expecting anything but those words to come out of Archie’s mouth. He frowned. “What? She’s only been here for like, five minutes.”

The ginger teen shook his head. “Apparently, Cheryl followed her on Instagram, and she followed Cheryl back, and their meeting was fated by the gods or something, according to Ronnie.”

Jughead felt his stomach constrict. “Instagram? I follow her Instagram, it’s just pictures of food.”

Archie shook his head. “No, man. I’m not sure what’s going on here, either, but I think she’s been playing you.”

They pulled into Thornhill and found a parking space. From the looks of it, half the town had shown up at the party. Jughead and Archie got out of the car, staring up at the gates. His eyes picked out the motorcycle in an instant, parked near the front like a guest of honor. At least it seemed unscathed, no telling about the condition of the rider.

The doors were unlocked, the sound of house music throbbing out into the late afternoon. Teens filled the ruins of the mansion at every turn, even amongst the badly burnt out rooms that were missing more than just ceilings or walls. It was dark inside wherever four walls were still standing, the ashy remains of the gothic curtains closed against the daylight, giving the party an instant after-midnight feel. It didn’t slip past his notice that there were paper pixie-stick sleeves all over the ground, either.

Jughead looked at each face as they walked from room to room, trying to locate his sister. If he could just get his keys back, they could get out of this house of horrors.

He noticed the smell before he realized what he was looking at, as he and Archie searched the house for signs of JB. It was over-sweet, like a rich dessert, with the distinctive tangy scent of liquor permeating the air. Almost everyone in the house was holding a plastic cup filled with some sort of amber liquid, and many were in varying states of disequilibrium.

Jughead backed up as he entered an enclosed room and saw several familiar leather jackets scattered throughout the clean-cut figures of Riverdale’s finest sons and daughters. Before he could turn away, he was sighted by a certain curly-haired Serpent.

Toni disentangled herself from Cheryl and made her way through the crowd, smiling at Jughead. “I would have told you, but I got the feeling that things weren’t good between you and your sister,” she said by way of apology.

He glanced down at her. “They’re not,” he said shortly. “She stole my bike.”

Toni’s mouth gaped. “What?” she laughed, blinking in disbelief.

“Have you seen her?” he asked shortly. “I just want to get my keys.”

Jughead turned, noticing that Archie had found Veronica. She’d given him a glass of whatever everyone was drinking and he was leaning down to kiss her, his arm on the wall behind her head. He rolled his eyes and turned back to Toni, exasperated.

She pointed back in the direction of her girlfriend. “Cheryl hasn’t let her out of her sight all night,” she said.

Jughead frowned at that too. “Yeah, why didn’t I know that Cheryl knew my sister?”

Toni raised her eyebrows. “Uh, dude, no one realized that she was your sister.”

He sighed again. “Neither did I,” he muttered.

His petite friend blinked up at him. “Really, Juggie, you need to relax. She’s pretty cool, for a kid. Here, try some of this.”

She pressed her plastic cup into his hand. Jughead sniffed, closing his eyes before he took a sip. It tasted like alcoholic syrup, like drinking straight Pucker without any sort of added liquor to cut the sickening sweetness. He wrinkled his nose and handed the cup back to Toni. “What is that?” he asked.

She looked over at Cheryl, smiling secretively. “Cheryl thought of it,” she explained. “It’s nectar.”

He gave her a look. “Come on, Toni, what is it?” he asked. “I’m not going to tell anyone the secret Blossom recipe.”

Toni twisted her lips to one side and took a sip. “Not sure I can trust that, Forsythe Pendleton the Third. You and Betty tend to make secrets public whenever it suits your needs.”

Jughead couldn’t help rolling his eyes again. He’d betrayed Toni’s confidence in the past, but it was over and done with between them. He just said, “It’s maple syrup and rum, isn’t it?”

She blinked and took another sip.

Jughead took the silence as confirmation and turned, planning to push himself through the crowd to find his sister and take back his keys. Growing up around a bar had taught him his way around a liquor cabinet, at least. He couldn’t fathom the sort of hangovers that everyone would be enduring in school tomorrow. Toni caught his arm and he turned back to her.

“Cheryl is really impressed with JB,” she said quietly. “Please don’t crash the party.”

He didn’t blame her for trying to defend her girlfriend, of course. Letting his expression soften, he said, “I swear, once I have my keys, I’ll be out of here.”

Tony let go of his jacket and nodded. She began to push her way across the room to return to Cheryl’s side, with Jughead following in her wake. As they approached, Cheryl’s eyes found him trailing her girlfriend like a shadow and they seemed to light with a malicious fire. She smacked her lips and gave him the once-over as he approached.

“Jones,” she snapped, her expression souring. “I don’t believe you were extended an invitation.”

Jughead shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to project a non-threatening demeanor. “The door was open,” he said. “And, I’m really just here for my keys.”

Cheryl’s eyes flicked toward the door at her right, and he guessed that his sister must have gone through there. She wasn’t done with him, though. “I saw my sweet cousin snap today, Holden Caulfield. You really might consider teaching her how to punch,” she drawled, a sort of wicked delight flickering across her face at her chance to torment him.

Jughead sighed. “Thanks for the advice, Regina George. I’ll keep it in mind,” he quipped.

Toni snickered at Cheryl’s side, tucking herself under the taller ginger’s arm. She looked up at Cheryl and said easily, “Let’s help Jug find JB and he’ll get out of your hair.”

Cheryl looked for a moment like she might refuse, but then she let her bottom lip slide forward in a pout. “She’s left me and gone off somewhere, actually. That way,” she said, gesturing toward the door she’d looked at earlier.

Jughead gave her a joyless smile and nodded briefly. “Thanks,” he said, then glanced over at Toni. “Don’t get yourself in trouble. I could hear the music from the road. Make sure you’re out of here if Sheriff Keller shows up.”

Cheryl rolled her eyes but Toni nodded appreciatively. She knew just as well as Jughead that any Serpent found within two miles of this place would be hauled in on trumped up charges if this party were busted. Cheryl must not yet realize that her silver spoon offered protection only for herself, and not her girlfriend.

He shouldered his way through the crowds of nectar-imbibing teens, still checking each face for any sign of JB. Still no brunette, boot-clad, doll-faced kid anywhere to be found. 

Jughead realized that he’d worked his way through the remains of every room on the main floor, and wound up back at Thornhill’s formerly majestic entryway. He looked out in the deepening twilight at the lights twinkling in Thistlehouse across the grounds.

A figure separated itself from the remains of a half-crisped topiary, followed by another. Jughead squinted, starting toward them.

The second figure must have recognized him, because whoever they were, they took off for the back of the Blossom grounds. The build was too large for his sister, so he let them go. Instead, he walked straight toward the first figure, his pace quickening as he realized that it fit the build of a certain young teen he’d been hunting all night.

“JB,” he said, and the figure froze.

Her voice was timorous in the approaching evening, and he saw the silhouetted toss of her hair as clearly as if she’d been standing under a spotlight. “Go home, Jughead,” she spat. “You weren’t invited to my party.”

He kept approaching, hardly able to contain his fury. “You weren’t allowed to borrow my motorcycle,” he countered.

“It’s not yours, it’s dad’s,” she snapped back, close enough now that he could see her scowl. 

Jughead couldn’t resist the juvenile, “Your face is going to get stuck that way,” that he shot back at her.

She was clenching her fists by the time he was near enough to notice, and JB took two steps toward him before trying to throw her first punch. Jughead dodged, knocking her arm aside with his forearm so that her fist sailed through open air. She shouted and tried to swing her other fist, and he let her connect with his left shoulder. 

“Fuck,” she breathed as he caught her wrists, just like he had that morning in the hallway. Immobilized, she glared up at him.

Jughead was breathing quickly from their little fight. He glared right back. “Give me my keys,” he growled. 

JB twisted her wrists in his grip but he didn’t let go. She tried to kick, but he was anticipating that too. He didn’t wince or flinch as her boots connected with his shins, though he realized distantly that he’d probably have a few bruises, too. Finally giving up on any sort of physical retaliation, she relaxed and sighed. “Fine, I’ll give you the stupid keys. Are you going to make me go home?” 

Jughead was feeling particularly vindictive after all the shit she’d put him through today. He glared down at her. “No, you can walk. Or don’t come back at all, your choice.”

He released her wrists and she rubbed them, still glaring. Reaching into her skull and crossbones backpack, she fished out his key ring and dropped it into his outstretched hand. Jughead wondered why she was still carrying her backpack around with her, but didn’t say anything once he’d gotten what he wanted.

JB brushed past him and moved back toward Thornhill’s ruins, not looking back. He walked straight toward his bike, sending Archie a quick text message to let him know that he wouldn’t need a ride. After a second of hesitation, he added, _JB might, if you feel like it._

As he rode away from the Blossom estate, he ran over the strangeness of the evening in his mind. Betty, not being invited to one of Cheryl’s parties. JB’s previous identity as a cheerleader. Her ability to drive a motorcycle on her own, despite her age. Those punches.

The mystery of Toledo was looming over him, hinting at every turn that something was not as it seemed when it came to his sister’s past. Add the caveat of her second secret social media presence, where she was apparently internet famous to everyone except her own brother, and he wasn’t sure where the truth began or the lies ended. Jughead lowered his helmeted head and drove past Sunnyside, headed for the freeway. He wasn’t particularly willing to face his parents yet, either. Forget whatever sort of celebratory family dinner they might have planned…as far as Jughead was concerned, there was no food on the Earth that could fix the problems in their family now.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad news, Jingle Jangle.

Jughead ignored the steady ringing of his phone, not bothering to check the caller ID. He knew that it was one of his parents, but tonight he didn’t care. He’d driven the perimeter of Riverdale before circling back to town, where he’d ultimately ended up spending the night in the Andrews’ garage. As sunlight streamed into the eave windows and the slamming of truck doors told him that Mr. Andrews was leaving for work, Jughead blinked and rubbed his eyes. 

He waited in the garage until the sounds of outside life faded away, indicating that it was safe to leave. Jughead opened the garage door and walked his motorcycle outside, turning back to close up Archie’s neglected practice space. 

He glanced over at the Cooper house next door, noticing hopefully that the driveway was empty again. No lights were on yet in Betty’s room, but Jughead was betting that his Juliet was awake, even if she wasn’t up for the day yet. He looked around the edge of the garage for some small pebbles, tossing them at her window just hard enough to make a sound upon impact. It took a few tries before his bleary-eyed, blonde-haired, bruised girlfriend appeared in the frame. 

When she saw him on the ground, her eyebrows raised. Betty opened her window and leaned out a bit. “Come around to the front door, Jughead,” she called, not bothering to lower her voice. He took that to mean that her parents weren’t home.

She met him at the door in her pajamas, a cute polka-dotted cotton ensemble with ribbons around the neckline and frills around her calves. Jughead was moderately self conscious about being unable to brush his teeth yet, but Betty smiled happily and gave him a quick kiss all the same.

“Sorry, I just woke up,” she said, letting him step into the entryway. 

Jughead smiled back at her. “So did I,” he said. “How long do we have?”

Betty yawned. “Mom has been out all night. There was some sort of massive Jingle Jangle bust last night, over at Thornhill. I guess they talked about cancelling school today for everyone, so many people got caught.”

He couldn’t help showing his surprise at that information. “Really? Do you know who?”

She made her way into the kitchen and poured a bowl of cereal, wordlessly asking if he’d like one too. Jughead nodded, still waiting to find out how much she knew. Betty got out a second bowl, poured milk in both, and slid one over to him. “I know Reggie was caught for sure,” she said. “And Archie was home last night, so I’m guessing V is at school today too. I heard that a few Serpents were involved, so I thought you might know more than I do.”

Jughead felt his stomach twist, and not with hunger. He’d seen a few of his friends there the night before, but he was sure they weren’t handling JJ. He’d done everything in his power to keep the Serpents out of that mess, leaving it for the Ghoulies to handle exclusively. 

“I was there for a bit,” he said hesitantly. “I saw a few people using, but nothing unusual for Riverdale. I think the bigger story would be Cheryl Blossom’s unholy cocktail mix.”

Betty gave him a curious look over her cereal, tilting her head to one side. “Mom didn’t say anything about drinking,” she mused. “She’s been following leads all night, trying to put together a feature piece on the situation. It’s apparently the biggest drug bust that Sheriff Keller has had in months.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, finally thumbing through his missed calls. As he’d expected, they were all from his parents. No messages from Archie, JB, Toni, or anyone else about last night. Hopefully that meant that they’d all escaped without criminal charges. “JB stole my motorcycle to go there,” he explained, meeting Betty’s eyes. “Archie gave me a ride so that I could get it back.”

Betty frowned. “And you left JB there?” she asked, the disapproving tone of her voice cutting through to his core.

Jughead shrugged, having another bite. “She tried to fight me,” he explained, as if that forgave what he had done. “I was angry, so I left. Hopefully she got home alright.”

His girlfriend leveled an incredulous look at him. “She’s fourteen, almost fifteen, right?” she asked.

Jughead nodded. “And we’re sixteen, almost seventeen, so?”

Betty shook her head. “She’s not thinking this stuff through, Juggie. I’m sure she’s upset about leaving Toledo, and she’s lashing out because she’s frustrated. We should try to find out whatever we can about her time there.”

He couldn’t help but smile at the way her train of thought mirrored his own. Jughead had been telling himself for days that this was exactly what Betty would say. He unlocked his phone and opened his Instagram app. “Actually, I was thinking the same thing. I already started trying to find out what I could.”

Betty leaned over and looked at the screen. She pressed her lips together as he scrolled. “That can’t really be her account,” she commented.

Jughead looked up at her, surprised. It had fooled him for years, apparently, but Betty only needed half a minute to see that it was fake. “How can you tell?”

She glanced over. “Think about how often Ronnie or I update, I’m not sure if you follow Cheryl. No one has an account that slow.”

He issued a small snort of laughter in response. “Well, I do,” he replied.

Betty smiled and reached up to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. “You’re different,” she said sweetly, leaning over to gently kiss him. When she straightened, she added, “Most people update more than a few times a week.”

“I get busy writing,” he said defensively, almost pouting. “I forget.”

Betty resumed eating her cereal, still looking at him with a smile in her eyes. She tipped the leftover milk out in the sink and rinsed the bowl, leaving it to be loaded in the dishwasher later. As she did that, she said, “Okay, so she’s not very active on social media. What else do we know?”

Jughead sighed. “That Cheryl Blossom was one of her number one followers on a secret Instagram account that I was never added to,” he said, the words tumbling out like the release of a weight from his conscience.

Betty nodded. “That makes sense.”

“It does? I’m glad it makes sense to you, because I’m confused.”

She looked at him, hesitated, then said, “It sounds like she just didn’t want you to know too much about her, Juggie.” After a pause, she added, “We just have to figure out why.”

He finished his cereal too, cleaning up and leaving the bowl in the sink with hers. Turning back to his girlfriend, Jughead said in defeat, “Much as I’d rather do anything else, I should probably go home and make sure she wasn’t arrested last night.”

Betty gave him a pitying look and leaned over for one more kiss. “Let’s meet at Pop’s tonight and go over what we know. I still have to fill you in on Operation Falice, too.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Have there been any more developments?”

She shrugged, following him toward the front door. “Just a few more text messages that I noticed. Mom still doesn’t know that I have her lock code.”

With those words from Betty, Jughead realized what he needed to do to get to the bottom of things with Jellybean. He kissed Betty’s forehead and said, “I’ll pick you up at seven for Pop’s.”

Heading home, he was praying the entire ride that his parents would already be out. Arriving in the trailer park, he saw the somewhere there was definitely a god listening to his requests. He parked his bike a distance from their trailer, finding an inconspicuous place near a few bikes that he thought belonged to some other resident Serpents. No reason to make it easy for JB to repeat last night’s stunt. Jughead let himself in the door, walking quietly in case only one of his parents had stepped out in the car.

A quick once-through of the trailer proved that he was alone. Also, he noticed that JB’s little backpack was sitting on the coffee table. So she’d made it home the night before, he could assume. He wasn’t sure where she’d gone, since they were still suspended, but he counted it as another blessing that he didn’t have to confront her right now. 

Jughead purposely left his keys in his jacket pocket, rather than setting them down. He went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth, splashing water over his face when he saw himself in the mirror. Going back into the living room, he immediately sat down and began sliding the zipper on JB’s bag aside.

What he saw within her little skull and bones backpack was something he was hardly prepared to discover. Jughead drew in a sharp breath as the tops of bunches of pixie sticks stared up at him. He thought of what Betty had said, about the Thornhill party being a massive drug bust. How had JB ended up with all of this Jingle Jangle?

He re-zipped the bag and set it down exactly where he’d found it. Jughead had the sudden, irresistible urge to leave the trailer, get on his bike, and drive until Riverdale was just a distant point on the map. The rotten feeling of foreboding that had settled in his stomach before Jellybean’s return threatened to pervade him again, and he realized that his hands were slightly trembling as he tried to arrange the straps of her backpack exactly the way they’d been laying.

His mind was going a mile a minute. The only people in Riverdale that dealt in Jingle Jangle were the Ghoulies. How on earth had his little sister already gotten mixed up with them, when she had only been in town for a few days?

Suddenly, a hazy narrative began to take shape in his mind. The figure at Thornhill had been one of the Ghoulies, threatening her to take the JJ back in to the party. When Jughead had approached, the rival gang member had fled, recognizing the Serpents’ self-styled prince. Then, like a complete jerk, he’d fought with Jellybean to get his keys back and left her alone at a party to be caught during a drug bust.

He dropped his head into his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. How had he been so stupid? JB needed his protection all along, but she wasn’t the type of kid to ask for it. Whatever had happened to her in Toronto, she’d had to learn how to fight and defend herself. Thinking she could handle whatever Riverdale threw at her, she’d gotten mixed up in the wrong crowd.

Jughead resolved to face his parents about the issue and own up to his involvement. He was going to apologize to Jellybean. Hadn’t he wanted her and mom to move home, more than anything, for years? Why was he messing everything up?

These thoughts ran through his mind until the door of the trailer burst open, the melody of two cheerful voices heralding the arrival of the last adults he was expecting to see that morning.

FP and Alice froze in the doorway, his hands on her waist, both of them simultaneously seeing Jughead as he was seeing them. For an instant, his mind was nothing but a red haze, unable to process what was happening. Then the pieces began to fall together, words forming again in his mind. 

“Jughead—“ FP began, pulling his hands away from Betty’s mom like he’d been burned. 

He stood up, unable to keep his expression clear as he glared. “What, _Dad_? Are you going to threaten me again? Make me swear not to tell anyone? Well—“

Alice stepped forward, her brows knit together. “Jughead, you don’t understand,” she interrupted.

He laughed shortly. “Oh, yeah? And how about mom? Does she understand?” he snapped, not willing to hear them out. Jughead was already dealing with JB, he didn’t need to add problems from FP into his life. This was just another complication he’d have to reconcile, somehow.

FP had the courtesy to look panicked, at least. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, boy,” he said, stepping toward his son.

Jughead finally boiled over, the words rising unbidden out of him as he snapped, “THEN TELL ME!”

His voice reverberated through the empty trailer, though the acoustics weren’t right for an echo. They repeated through his mind, filling the deafening silence that met him as both adults looked from one another, back to his trembling frame.

Alice was the one who spoke, always better with words than FP in a crisis. Her expression softened and she said, “Your Dad and I have been in love for a very, very long time.”

Jughead crossed his arms, feeling almost as if he were hugging himself for support. He waited, looking over at FP.

His dad rubbed the back of his head, not making eye contact with his son. “A lot has happened to bring us to this point,” he said, not informatively.

Alice reached over and took his hand, her gaze lingering for a moment longer than what Jughead would consider simply friendly eye contact. “When your dad heard Hal and I arguing years ago, he decided that we could never be together,” she explained. “But sometimes, Jughead, these things are hard to control.”

He frowned in response, not fully buying it either. “And what about Mom?” he asked, his voice still snappish. 

FP let out a long breath. “That’s what I was going to say, boy. Your mom already knows.”

Alice frowned deeper. “Well, actually, she knows about our past. But Jughead, your father and I have agreed—“

“This isn’t serious,” FP cut in. “And that’s why your mom can never know what you just saw.”

Jughead felt a distinct buzzing in his ears, the silence after their disjointed explanation ringing in the least silent way possible. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to calm down. Well, that was a minor mystery solved that had been bothering Betty too.

He didn’t say anything to either of them. If it had been his dad alone, he might have mentioned the Jingle Jangle sitting on the coffee table. But in this case, like many instances in his life, he could see that he’d have to operate alone.

Jughead took his keys out of his pocket and moved toward the door. He just couldn’t take any more of this today. FP stepped over, physically stopping him.

“I’m serious, boy. Your mother can never know,” he growled, frowning. 

“According to what JB told Betty, before she _hit_ her, mom already does,” Jughead said. “I’m out.”

With that, he shouldered his way between them and out into the morning, feeling for a moment like he should go back to pick up his toothbrush for an extended stay anywhere else. The good thing about the time he’d been living on his own, at least, was that he wasn’t so eager to please anyone at home. He’d keep living in Archie’s garage if he had to, but he wasn’t going to do any favors for his dad when he had JB running amuck in his life, either.

He walked over to his motorcycle and flew out of Sunnyside, thinking about going over to tell Betty what he’d found out. Before he made it too far, though, he spotted a distinctive brunette walking along the side of the road.

He was just pulling over when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. Knowing it couldn’t be Betty, he pulled it out briefly just to check the caller ID.

Turns out, he was receiving a rapid series of text messages from none other than Veronica Lodge, so quickly that it felt like his phone was ringing. He saw a photo that looked like a screenshot, among a few messages that seemed to contain a couple of initials, but he slid his phone back into his pocket and decided to check it later.

Getting off the bike, he jogged a few paces to catch up with JB, who hadn’t stopped walking.

“Hey,” he said, raising his voice. She paused at least, glancing over her shoulder for the briefest of moments.

Jughead caught up to her, seeing the glare that he’d been expecting. After telling her not to come home, then leaving her to whatever happened last night at Thornhill, he was feeling a little bit like he finally deserved it.

“Go away,” JB snapped, her tone sharp.

Jughead caught her arm and pulled, getting her to stop and turn toward him. She immediately crossed her arms.

“I’m not sure how things got to be like this between you and I,” he said, “but I’m here for you, JB. I’m sorry about what I said yesterday.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right,” she muttered. Then she pulled her arm away from his grip and flipped her hair back. “I don’t need you, Jughead. Just stay out of my life.”

He frowned, thinking of the JJ in her backpack at home. Swallowing down the defensive retort he wanted to give her, he tried his best to sound apologetic as he said, “I didn’t mean it, JB. Things can get pretty rough in Riverdale, and you can get hurt if you get mixed up with the wrong crowd. I’m going to do everything I can to protect you—me and the Serpents, really—but we have to have a little bit of trust, okay?”

She was quiet for a moment, looking as if she were thinking. Then, unexpectedly, his sister burst out laughing. He stared at her, failing entirely to see what was funny. JB dabbed at her eyes with her knuckles, wiping away tears without smudging her carefully applied eye makeup. 

“You, protect me?” she giggled, bursting into fresh peals of laughter at the look on his face. “Oh God, could you be any more of an idiot?”

Jughead glared back, feeling his teeth clench as he was flooded with rage at her words. Adrenaline was rushing through his veins, choking him with its furious wave of energy. “We’re family,” he tried, giving it one final effort as he fought back the impulse to fight.

JB’s expression grew serious and she took a step toward him. “I told you, big brother, that I’m not fucking eight any more. I don’t need protection from you, or Dad, or anyone else. I’ve taken care of myself all this time, and that’s how I like it. Don’t get in my fucking way.” 

With that, she turned and continued walking to wherever she was going before he’d stopped her. After that statement, he let her go. Jughead turned back to his motorcycle. He drove past JB as close as he could, so that the wind whipped her hair in a tornado around her face. Revving the bike, he sped away.

He pulled over a few miles away, too angry to think. Jughead took a few deep breaths and slammed his hands down on his thighs, releasing the tension that the conversation with his dad and subsequent encounter with JB had built up throughout the morning. He rolled his head back to stretch his neck, remembering Veronica’s rapid text messages as he did so.

Jughead slid his phone out of his pocket and looked down at the screen. 

_JH, she’s GhostGirl20,_ read the first message. It was followed by a screenshot of JB’s real Instagram account, then a screenshot of a YouTube page.

 _She’s a famous party girl,_ read the next. 

_According to her online followers, the things she’s done make Cheryl look like a church mouse._

_There’s a video where she humiliates a girl at her old school._

_JB hangs her underwear outside her locker and films her finding it._

_the internet says the girl tried to commit suicide and her parents sued the school for letting JB get away with it._

_You have to see these videos_

He locked his phone and put it back in his pocket. It seemed increasingly that the story he’d assembled in his mind to explain JB’s behavior still wasn’t right. He wasn’t sure how much his dad knew, and judging by her words a few minutes ago, maybe his mom didn’t know either.

Jughead started the engine of the motorcycle and got back on the road, heading slowly toward Betty’s now. He thought of what she’d said earlier, about the Thornhill bust and her mom being out all night. Seeing their parents together, he wondered if that were true. When he got to her house, he’d text Toni and see if she would tell him what happened.

He parked at Betty’s and got off his bike, not bothering to be subtle about visiting in case her mom came home early. Jughead figured that he had a little leverage over Alice now, at least.

He sent Toni a quick text as he approached Betty’s door, but when he looked up from his phone he saw that it was curiously open. Jughead’s heart started to pound as he walked inside.

“Betty?” he called, his voice ringing through the empty house.

Her bag was dumped across the kitchen, contents scattered. He saw her pink bottle of pepper spray in the living room, lying behind the back of the couch like it had been tossed. Jughead turned and rushed back outside. His mind rushed over all the things that might have happened, each explanation sounding less plausible than the last.

As he got onto his motorcycle he called the only person he could think of in that moment.

“Dad? I think something happened to Betty,” he said, as soon as he heard the phone pick up.

There was the sound of a muffled struggle on the other end, and then Alice said, “What?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead’s rescue attempts and a kernel of truth from Gladys.

It wasn’t difficult to pick Jughead out of the sea of leather-clad individuals that gathered outside the Whyte Wyrm. Alice Cooper had gone home and called Sheriff Keller, pretending that she hadn’t already heard from Jughead what sort of condition her house was in. There was no reason to delay this investigation with any misplaced suspicions leveled at the Serpents. As another motorcycle parked under the overcast skies of Riverdale, Jughead slammed a fist against the wall next to the Wyrm’s front door.

“I told you already. Other than _Jellybean_ , there isn’t anyone in town that wanted to hurt her,” Jughead snapped, lifting his chin at his father’s most recent unhelpful statement.

FP frowned back. “Then we have no leads, boy. We’ll spread ourselves thin searching the whole damned town.”

Jughead glared. “Then let’s go,” he said, turning toward his bike.

His phone was buzzing in his pocket again, and he knew it still couldn’t be Betty. Taking it out just to silence the ringing, he saw Veronica’s name splashed over the screen again. He slid his thumb across the screen to answer the call.

“We checked everywhere she could have walked, Jughead,” she said the moment he answered the phone. “Betty definitely isn’t close to home.”

He heard Archie’s voice in the background. “Tell him the other thing,” said his ginger friend.

Veronica gasped a little bit. “Oh yeah, I’m sending you a screenshot that you might find interesting. I don’t know if it means anything, but check your messages.”

“Thanks,” he said, hanging up. A second later, his phone buzzed.

It was a screenshot from YouTube, with his sister’s face turned partially away from the screen. She was leaning over like she was picking something up, and her shirt had slipped up over her left hip.

There, unmistakably, was a small tattoo. Jughead irritably zoomed in on his screen, willing his mind to fill in the gaps of the low quality pixels.

It looked, strangely, like a little ghost. Sort of cartoonish, like the circular puffs from the old Mario games they’d played as kids—until FP hawked the Nintendo for beer money. Immediately, he thought of her screen name. But it wasn’t something that he could spend a lot of time thinking about, not with Betty missing. He locked his phone and shoved it back into his pocket, the roar of the Serpents departing drowning out most of the other noise in the area.

Jughead was just about to start his bike when Gladys appeared in the doorway of the Wyrm, her face pale. He hesitated. Although she’d done nothing to rekindle their relationship since she came back, he wondered what had made her look so terrified.

She looked around, seeing the last of the grown Serpents departing, and then caught sight of her son. Gladys moved quickly, waving one hand as she approached to keep him from leaving.

“Mom?” he asked, frowning.

She stopped at his side. “Jughead,” she said, her voice shaking unmistakably. “Before you go, there’s something you should know.”

He was curious now, wondering how his mother could possibly have any information that could help him find Betty. Actually, come to think of it, he wasn’t sure that he should trust whatever she had to say. His mother had been urging him to break up with Betty, after all.

“What?” he asked, willing at least to hear her out.

Jughead was surprised as she said, “You’re right, about your sister. She does want to hurt Betty, but not because of you.” Gladys looked stricken, her hands clenching together. “JB thinks that hurting Betty will make Alice Cooper leave our family alone.”

It was the least likely statement that he expected to hear. Forget covering for anyone, Jughead was too pressed for time to be subtle. “Why does she care?” he demanded urgently. “She just told me that she didn’t want anyone in her life, least of all me.”

Tears started pouring down his mother’s cheeks. “That’s partially my fault,” she whispered. “Oh, I’m such an idiot. Please, Jughead—find your sister—she’ll know where Betty is, I’m sure. Then I’ll explain everything.”

He pulled on his helmet and started his bike, heading toward the strip of road where he’d seen Jellybean walking earlier. He wasn’t sure where she’d been going, but he figured it was as good a place to start as any. The platitudes from his mother seemed like a good confirmation that his sister had somehow taken out even more of her seemingly deep-rooted frustrations on his girlfriend, even if his dad wasn’t willing to believe that. Jughead was already furious just considering it. He promised himself that if he found Betty harmed any worse than she had been before, there would be nothing keeping JB safe under the roof he called home any longer.

He slowed when he reached the area where he thought they’d spoken, idling along until he saw the tire treads on the shoulder where he’d sped away from her. JB’s boot tracks continued about another hundred feet before they abruptly disappeared. 

So she’d gotten a ride, then. Jughead looked around, taking in the nearby street signs. In his mind, he ran over what might be nearby. Where she could possibly have been heading.

As he looked around, he saw a small graffiti tag on the bottom of the expressway entrance sign. It was a small black ghost, no larger than an apple. Jughead must have seen it a million times driving down this road, and simply filed it away in the back of his mind as part of the scenery. Now, thinking of a certain screenshot he’d seen earlier, it stuck his eyes to the sign like superglue. 

_Ghoulies_ , he thought, staring. _Jingle Jangle,_ was the next thought, chasing quick on the heels of the first. 

An equation was starting to make sense in his mind, feeling even more right than whatever romantic stories he might have concocted that painted his sister as a damsel in distress. JB was anything except a damsel.

But she’d certainly be in distress when he found her.

Jughead flew down the road, making a quick u-turn as he cut across town. He was heading directly for The Crypt—the headquarters of a certain rival gang that had plenty of beef against him, if not his girlfriend. He was betting that it wouldn’t have been difficult for a certain young girl to twist their arms into an abduction, especially if she were willing to become their new JJ distributor in trade. Alice Cooper hand’t exactly endeared herself to anyone on the Southside, the Serpents included. But she also wasn’t romantically entangled with any other gang leaders either, as far as Jughead was aware. 

He parked his bike a block away, not wanting to give anyone a warning. Sending a quick text to his dad, he tucked his phone away and closed his hand around his switchblade. At least, if FP believed him, he’d have backup coming soon. Stupid as it might be to walk into enemy territory, he had a pressing feeling that Betty had a limited amount of time.

Jughead turned and walked toward The Crypt, hoping that this was a false alarm. Deep down, he wanted JB to be caught up in something over her head. Jughead might be willing to cut an extortionist who threatened him, but he was much more hesitant about attacking his own sister.

He stepped inside and took a second to let his eyes adjust to the dim light. Malachi was relaxing next to the bar, a few adult Ghoulies milling around the nearby tables. Four were in the middle of what looked like a poker game, a stack of credit cards piled in the center of the table as the pot. Jughead didn’t have to look closely to see that they were stolen.

Malachi looked back at Jughead from beneath his arm as he entered the room, his shoulders shaking with laughter. He tossed back a shot and turned on his stool, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“What an honor, Prince Hamlet,” the Ghoulie leader chortled, holding out his arms. “Welcome to The Crypt. What can I do for you?”

Jughead didn’t slow down. As soon as he was within arm’s reach of Malachi, he flipped his blade and said, “Tell me where to find my sister.”

Malachi’s expression soured. He lowered his arms just enough to twitch his vest to the side, exposing the handle of a handgun at his hip. “Don’t bring a knife to a gunfight, boy,” he snarled. 

Knowing that he was out-weaponed, Jughead flipped his knife closed and put it back in his pocket. He held up both hands, letting Malachi see that he wasn’t hiding anything else. 

“Look, I know she’s involved, so just tell me where she’s at. My issue is with her,” Jughead said, trying to smooth over his ill-planned entrance.

Malachi frowned. “Give me the knife, little worm,” he commanded.

Much as it pained Jughead to know that he was actually unarmed in this situation, he knew there was no point in arguing. He slid his knife onto the surface of the bar, letting go quickly and once again raising his empty hands.

Behind him, the other Ghoulies had circled to protect their leader. Now that Jughead was unarmed, they began to move closer. 

He recalled a certain afternoon at Southside High when he’d been jumped by their teenaged members, and felt an unpleasant curl of dread twist in his stomach. Thinking of Betty, though, he kept his gaze on Malachi steady.

“There, I’ve got nothing,” he said. “Just tell me where JB is, and I’ll get out of here.”

Malachi shook his head, laughing again. “Ah, no, little worm, you don’t get to come in here and make demands without offering anything in exchange.”

Jughead relaxed a little bit. If Malachi wanted to negotiate, that meant that he had the information Jughead was looking for. In his mind, he ran through the few things he might be able to offer as leverage. With his dad out of prison, it wasn’t like he was authorized to barter territory like he had before. Unless FP showed up soon, Jughead would have to think of something else.

His eyes landed on a sign behind the bar, advertising a brand of vodka with a jolly roger label.

“Well, I know about JB’s stash,” he said calmly. “And I know that Sheriff Keller would be very interested in it. Maybe even interested in where it came from.”

Malachi narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t do that to her,” he said. “You and your dad are too much alike—you’re too soft.”

Jughead tilted his head to the side, looking dispassionately at Malachi as he said, “Big mistake, underestimating what I’m willing to do. One message to Keller’s son, and you’re out of all that product.”

They stared at each other for a moment, before Malachi’s face finally broke into another malicious grin. He gestured to the Ghoulies that were gathered around. In an instant, they stepped back and returned to their former activities. Jughead felt some of the tension leave his shoulders at that. “You have a tough core, little prince,” he said. “But I agree. I’ve never been one to get in the middle of family matters. She’s upstairs.”

Jughead felt his fists constrict. He gave Malachi a nod of appreciation. “You have my silence,” he said, and then narrowed his eyes. “But you should know—my dad and I are nothing alike.”

Malachi laughed again. He gestured toward the door behind the bar, through which Jughead could see a shadowed staircase leading upwards. “Keep telling yourself that, kid,” he replied.

Jughead took the steps two at a time, mindful that his knife was still sitting on the bar. He reached the top of the stairs and looked around.

The space above The Crypt may have been living quarters once, but now it was storage. The Ghoulies weren’t stupid enough to keep any of their stash here, of course. Other than some broken old furniture that had once been in the bar, and some boxes of syrups and mixers, the room was essentially empty. 

Jughead walked a few paces and looked around, catching sight of a pair of familiar boots sticking out from behind some of the boxes. He walked forward another few steps until he saw a pale arm on the ground, and a fringe of brunette hair fanned over a pale shoulder.

Dropping to his knees next to JB, he reached out and shook her. “JB,” he hissed, not seeing her stir. “Jellybean!”

When her eyes fluttered, he breathed a sigh of relief. She looked around for a second, her eyes unfocused, before she managed to look at him in recognition.

“Jughead?” she asked, her voice high pitched. “What—?”

He frowned, but there was something more pressing than finding out why his sister was passed out in the attic of the Ghoulies’ headquarters. Leaning forward, he said, “Where’s Betty?”

JB blinked a few more times before her eyes narrowed. She pulled her arm out of his grip and looked away. “How should I know?” she snapped.

Jughead ran his hand over his forehead and took a breath so that he wouldn’t shout at her. “Because you had her kidnapped,” he hissed, glaring.

She frowned and shook her head. “No, I was—I was just doing a job here, and—I don’t know anything about her.”

He felt a cold knot settle in his stomach. So she didn’t know anything about Betty after all. Their mom had sent him on a wild goose chase, and right now Betty could be in real danger, and Jughead was wasting his time with a kid who wanted nothing to do with him.

They regarded each other furiously for a moment, before Jughead stood up. “Come on,” he commanded, holding out one hand. “You’re coming with me.”

JB stiffened, still reclining against the boxes. “Like fuck I am,” she snapped.

Jughead reached down and grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet. “I made a deal with Malachi to get you out of here, and you’re coming with me.”

She didn’t struggle, surprisingly. His mind was clattering with alarm as he wondered what sort of job she might have been doing, but he pushed those thoughts aside. First things first.

When they got downstairs, they walked past the bar. As they passed, Malachi said, “The left hand doesn’t know what the right is doing,” and laughed.

Jughead bit back an irritated reply and marched out of The Crypt with his sister in tow. When they reached his bike, he handed her the helmet.

He was surprised to see tears dripping down her cheeks. Not wanting to waste any more time on her infuriating and irrational behavior, he swung his leg over and started the engine.

JB climbed behind him and put her arms around his middle, her grip fairly loose. Jughead glanced back in exasperation. “You’re going to fall off,” he snapped.

At that moment, she lost her grip entirely and her head rolled backwards. Jughead couldn’t do anything to help her as she did fall backwards, her helmeted head smacking to the cement with a sickening crack.

He killed the engine and knelt down, slipping the helmet off her head. Jughead felt a pulse and checked to see that she was breathing.

He was debating calling an ambulance when the welcome roar of an engine rattled around the corner. Jughead looked up as two Serpent bikes pulled in next to him, one carrying two riders. His dad leaped off and knelt next to both teens, taking JB out of her brother’s arms.

“What happened?” FP demanded, glancing up at Jughead.

He shook his head. “I found her in The Crypt, she said she was doing something for Malachi. She’s been in and out.”

That was the extent of his knowledge, beyond the bag of JJ sitting in the trailer.

FP took charge of the situation. “Call Gladys and have her bring the car,” he told one of the nearby Serpents. “Jughead, I might know where they took Betty.”

He looked up at his dad. “Where?” he asked.

“She’s in the graveyard,” FP said. “It’s a guess, but it’s where the Ghoulies always like to stash things they don’t want anyone finding. Until we get JB cleaned up, we won’t know for sure.”

Jughead bit back his choking feeling of frustration. “She said she didn’t know anything,” he protested, glancing down at his sister’s limp form.

FP shook his head. “Of course she did, boy,” he snapped. “It’s the best lead we have right now, though.”

Jughead left them kneeling on the sidewalk and tore out of the Southside, heading for the cemetery on the edge of town.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FP and Gladys finally come clean about Toledo, a bit.

The Riverdale Cemetery had been established when the town was founded, and its first inhabitant was the granddaughter of one of the town’s founding fathers. She was only two years old when she passed away, succumbing to a particularly bad case of smallpox. A year later, her mother committed suicide, and as a result she was buried just outside the gates. It took a hundred and fifty years for the town to expand the cemetery, incidentally including her grave within its boundaries.

It was a series of useless facts like this that flew through Jughead’s mind as he approached the grounds just as quickly as his mind was racing. He’d researched the macabre history of the cemetery for a Blue and Gold piece that Betty asked for around Halloween. He could picture her, in her little black holiday dress, smiling and nodding as she proofread his final submission.

He stopped outside the gates, finding them padlocked shut. Since the sun was setting, the caretaker had probably closed the grounds for the night. If Jughead was caught, he would face misdemeanor charges, but he’d risk worse than that for Betty without a second thought.

He got back on his bike and sped along the small road through the grounds, his eyes sweeping over the graves, not sure what he was looking for. He imagined Malachi choosing some gaudy, overdone headstone as the hiding place for the Jangle waiting to be processed into its final sugary state.

Jughead approached the back of the cemetery and heard something unusual, like a low wail. He killed the engine and got off his bike, canvassing forward on foot. In the deepening twilight, he was hoping that his mind wasn’t just playing tricks on him. He’d never imagined ghostly wails in a cemetery before, but then again, it had been a series of very stressful days.

He was walking and listening intently when his phone buzzed, almost making him leap out of his skin. Jughead snatched it out of his pocket, blinking down at the screen.

 _JB is still out_ , the message read. It was from his mother.

He put his phone back in his pocket, walking a few more paces down the path. 

There, he definitely heard something real. It was a sob, the sort of sound made out of desperation rather than mourning. Jughead broke into a run.

“BETTY!” He shouted, his voice echoing over the tombstones.

He was running toward the sound and listening. Jughead didn’t have long to wait before he heard his name ringing over the stones.

He was sprinting now, chasing the sound of her voice to a crumbling sepulcher at the edge of the property. As he got closer, he saw that the marble lid was askew, the top allowing a small triangular crack through which a few bloodied fingers were struggling.

Jughead threw his shoulder against it, the marble sliding easily aside. Tracks were worn in the edge as if it had been slid and replaced many times before.

Betty lifted her arms and he saw that her wrists were tied together with a plastic zip tie, her shoulder blossoming with a fresh bruise. He lifted her out of the empty tomb and snapped the tie apart, letting her throw her arms around him as she cried. For the first time all week, he let himself cry too. Burying his face in her hair, he held her as if she’d disappear again if he ever let her go.

“Jug—these men—“ she gasped, between sobs. “I tried to fight them, but—“

He pressed his forehead against hers, asking, “Did they hurt you, Betty?”

She shook her head. “Just some bumps from being thrown around, Jug. I got one with my pepper spray before the other caught me.”

“I know you did,” he muttered, kissing the side of her face. “I’m so sorry that I took so long to find you.”

She squeezed him tighter, shaking her head. “I had no idea where I was, Juggie. I was blindfolded.”

Jughead smoothed his hands over her then, looking into her terrified eyes. He kissed her, as if kisses could make all of the terror and pain of the last 24 hours go away. At the same time, in the back of his mind, a fire had ignited. When he found whoever was responsible for doing this to the one person he truly loved most in this world, Jughead was going to get payback for each and every tear she had shed.

He kissed her again, feeling her finally relax in his arms. Once Betty’s crying subsided, Jughead dashed the tears off his own face with the sleeve of his jacket. He slid out his phone and held it out to her.

Betty gave him a grateful look and unlocked it with his passcode, calling her mother within a moment. Jughead could hear Alice’s panicked voice on the other end when she answered.

“Mom?” said Betty, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m okay, Jughead got me.” She paused, letting her mother say something. “We’re in the cemetery.”

Alice said something else, and Betty met Jughead’s eyes. “It’s okay, it will get taken care of,” she said.

Betty gave him back the phone, wiping her tears with the palm of her hand. She took a shuddering, steadying breath.

“Was it my sister?” he asked flatly, not sure if her answer would effect him either way. Whatever JB had been doing at The Crypt, and whether she was involved in the Betty situation or not, she was still going to have to answer to Jughead for all the Jingle Jangle he’d found in her bag.

Betty shook her head. “I’m not sure, but I don’t think so. People I’ve never seen before just...came in and grabbed me.”

Jughead’s fingers tightened on her waist, his mind reaching a quick conclusion. “Can you describe them?”

Betty glanced away from him, thinking. “I’m pretty sure I can,” she said.

“Just tell me what they were wearing.”

She moved her eyes toward his again. “Mostly black, with...I don’t know what to call it, not bedazzling, but some sort of...spikes?”

He exhaled at the confirmation. For whatever reason, the Ghoulies had brought her to this place and left her there. Jughead looked down at her hands, remembering her bloody fingers.

She’d cut the side of her wrists, probably pulling against the zip tie they’d used to restrain her. Dried blood was all over her hands, some streaking down her forearms. 

Before he could say anything else, police sirens began to sound faintly in the distance.

He met her eyes again, and Betty leaned forward for another kiss. As Sheriff Keller pulled up, lights flashing, they blinked in the lights of the squad car. The door opened and the Sheriff stepped out, rushing toward them with his hand on his handgun.

“Betty, Jughead,” he said. “Are you alone?”

Jughead nodded. “Yes, Sheriff, we are,” he said.

Paramedics were summoned for Betty while Sheriff Keller took their statements, including Betty’s description of her attackers. Jughead patiently waited as the Sheriff asked him again how he’d realized Betty was here. Admitting that he’d gotten the tip from his father after picking up his sister at The Crypt would have been all sorts of trouble, for all of them. FP was still on parole, after all. Jughead explained that he’d searched the whole town until he heard Betty’s voice, then broken into the cemetery to check for her.

He repeated the same story flawlessly three times before Keller was willing to let him go. Jughead went straight over to Betty, who was wrapped in a triage blanket while her wrists were bandaged. A paramedic looked up as he approached.

“These need to be changed every 24 hours,” the professional advised, speaking to both of them. Jughead nodded, leaning over and placing a kiss on the top of Betty’s head.

“I have to check something at home,” he said vaguely. “I’ll be over in an hour, Betty.”

She looked up at him, her eyes darkening. “Be careful, Jug,” she whispered. At least Betty had no illusions about what he was about to do.

He jogged the few feet back to his bike, pulling out of the cemetery with the knowledge that Sheriff Keller was going to take Betty home safely. When he’d taken her out of the tomb, he’d noticed that it was empty of any other illicit substances. So Malachi and his crew had expected them to find her, then. He’d probably been sending a message, maybe even telling FP that he was abandoning his old hiding place.

He pulled into Sunnyside and realized that he’d sped off without any understanding of what had happened to Jellybean. Thinking of her limp figure on the pavement, he started to wonder if he’d misplaced the anger he’d felt toward her after all. Was she a part of the plan behind all of this, or had she been a victim just as much as Betty? 

Jughead parked in front of the trailer and stashed his helmet. He opened the door of the trailer to find JB sprawled on the pull out couch and his parents sitting at the dining table. They’d been in the middle of a serious conversation, by the looks of it. They were holding one another’s hands across the surface of the table, but they looked up when Jughead walked in. He had a brief sickening memory of Alice Cooper holding his dad’s hand earlier the same day, but he pushed it aside and looked over at his sister in concern.

“What’s going on?” Jughead asked, hoping that they would say something about her condition.

Instead, his mother burst into fresh tears.

FP let go of her hands and turned to Jughead, looking concerned. “You found her, right? We heard on the police scanner at the Wyrm. Is Betty okay?”

Jughead nodded. “Yeah, she was right where you said she’d be. How did you know?”

FP sighed, looking over at JB before turning toward Gladys. “I told you that we needed to tell him, too.”

She took a shuddering breath and nodded. “Yes, it was stupid not to say anything.”

FP kicked out the third chair at the table with one foot, gesturing. “Have a seat, boy.”

He slid into the chair and looked from one to the other, feeling their trepidation. Jughead frowned. “Is this about Jellybean?”

Gladys nodded. “Yes, it is. We didn’t just decide to come back from Toledo, Jughead. We had to.”

He’d figured as much, though he wasn’t totally sure of the specific reason. Jughead remembered Veronica’s helpful text messages and said, “Was it because of what happened at her school?”

Gladys looked at FP. “She hasn’t been going to that school all year. I enrolled her in an online program that she was doing from home.”

FP looked up at the ceiling. “Until she started stealing prescriptions from Gram and Gramps to sell to her old friends,” he said.

His mother burst into a fresh bout of tears. “Yes, so I had to protect them from her. I thought that, if we came back to Riverdale, you could—“

Jughead interrupted. “Jesus, really? You didn’t tell me any of this, and you thought that I could do something about it? What, was I supposed to read everyone’s minds?”

FP frowned at him. “It wasn’t like that. We didn’t want anyone here to find out.”

Jughead crossed his arms. “Oh, like you didn’t want anyone to find out about—“

FP was truly irritated now, and he broke in before Jughead could expose him. “Boy, we thought it was best for both of you.”

The utter unfairness of the situation struck Jughead, harder than homelessness, harder than hunger. Whatever secrets they’d decided to keep, the outcome was that they’d hurt _Betty_. He could forgive and forget a lot of crap from his parents, but this was something he wasn’t sure they’d ever come back from. Feeling the frustration of the entire situation, he said, “Like you thought it was best for both of us to take off for Toledo.”

Gladys turned away. “At the time, there was hardly any other choice, Jughead.”

He slammed a hand down on the table, still not able to control his frustration. “I was ten, mom. They caught me playing with matches and sent me to juvie—dad was already in jail—and so, what? You thought that leaving town was best for me? So that I’d be living with a foster family when I got out?”

She didn’t say anything, or meet his gaze. Jughead turned to his dad, who at least had been making an effort lately to have some semblance of a relationship with his son. 

“Was what happened to Betty today because of Jellybean?” he asked, his voice shaking.

FP glanced over at the girl, who was still passed out on the couch bed. “I don’t think so,” he said. “Malachi has done this sort of thing…before.”

Jughead leaned back in his chair, not believing what he was hearing. “What?” he asked, completely astounded. “So this was just bad blood between the Ghoulies and the Serpents?”

His dad ran a hand over his hair anxiously, also looking away. “It might have been. He might have considered it payback for the stunt that you and Archie pulled a few months ago.”

Gladys spoke up. “We won’t know for sure until JB wakes up, Jughead.”

He glared over at her, then looked toward the couch. “What happened to her?” he asked, still unable to connect the pieces regarding his sister’s all around condition.

FP sighed heavily. “After you left, I paid a visit to The Crypt. Turns out, JB offered to sample a new blend of Jingle Jangle. To prove that it was safe.”

Gladys began openly sobbing again, but Jughead stared at his dad intently. Did he know about her stash, too? He didn’t say anything about it yet, but asked instead, “What sort of blend?”

“They cut the Jangle with sugar and a little bit of GHB,” his dad explained. “Since it’s an upper, they thought a downer would balance it out.”

Jughead exhaled, glancing over. That explained her semi-unconscious state in the attic, then. “She hasn’t overdosed, has she?”

FP shook his head. “No, we would have taken her to the hospital. She’ll be fine when she wakes up. Just needs to sleep it off.”

He looked over at his mom. “Was she doing this sort of thing in Toledo, mom?” If the internet videos and Veronica’s assessment of his sister as a party girl were accurate, Jughead was betting that she wasn’t a stranger to testing new mixtures of recreational drugs. He was starting to really wonder what else he didn’t know about her.

Gladys dashed at her eyes. “I don’t think so,” she said uncertainly.

Jughead was quiet, staring at her. Sure, at the awkward family dinner they’d shared a few days ago, his mom had explained that she was working two jobs to make ends meet in Toledo. Apparently, that had been to save up for a downpayment on one of Hiram Lodge’s gift horse houses. He pushed his chair back from the table and started to stand.

“I’m going to check on Betty,” he said. “She should be home by now, I had to leave her with Sheriff Keller.”

Gladys blinked up at him through her tears. “Tell Alice we’re so sorry that this happened,” she said.

Jughead glanced at his dad. “Why don’t you tell her yourselves?” he asked, turning.

He hadn’t taken four paces out of the house when FP followed behind him, letting the door close with a bang. Jughead paused at the bottom of the steps. His dad seemed to hesitate before saying, “Today was a message to both of us.”

He turned around, taking in FP’s tense stance with one look. Jughead frowned and said, “How?”

FP let out a long breath and explained, “They’re pissed about the way you cheated in their race, sure. But they’re also letting us know that they have Jellybean, if they want her. They came onto our territory, under our roof, and tried to strike right under our noses.”

Jughead would normally be inclined to keep the peace, but the Ghoulies had used every last ounce of charity and self-restraint in his body today already. He looked at his dad and said, “So they’re declaring a war.”

FP looked up at the sky. “Boy, this was the first move.”

Jughead stood there for a moment. War had been brewing between the Ghoulies and the Serpents for months, before Southside High shut down. They’d always been at odds, as far as he was aware. Given the way that the Serpents were the scapegoat for everything bad that the Ghoulies pedaled to the Northside, there weren’t many friendly feelings being exchanged on either side.

He was surprised when FP tossed him his pocketknife, the one he’d left in The Crypt when he retrieved Jellybean that afternoon. Jughead tucked it into his pocket. “Well, moves two and three have to be ours, then.”

FP gave a short, humorless laugh. “And move three has to end the war,” he said. “That’s the trick, Jughead.”

He nodded, glad at least that his dad was including him on this bit of information. Otherwise, he might have done something stupid tonight that got the Serpents entangled even deeper with the Ghoulies, against all wisdom. Recalling the look on Betty’s face when he’d slid aside that marble slab, he was strongly tempted to carry out an act of revenge anyway.

His dad stared at him for a moment and then said, “Go to her. Don’t come back here tonight. Your mother and I will handle Jellybean.”

It didn’t need saying twice. Jughead got on his motorcycle and made the short trip across town, parking again in the Coopers’ driveway. He let himself inside, not surprised to see Betty at the kitchen island while her mother fussed over some tea and sandwiches. They looked over as he let himself into the house, relief etched on both faces as they recognized him.

“Jughead, sweetie, leave your boots by the door,” Alice commented, looking over at Betty. “I’ve just finished cleaning everything up here.”

The accessories from Betty’s purse were tidied up, and all signs of the struggle were rightened already. To all appearances, nothing out of the ordinary had happened in this house today. Aside from Betty’s bandaged wrists and fading black eye, she seemed to be fine as well.

He noticed her soft white tank top and yoga pants, and the fluffy socks that Veronica had given her a few months ago after a sleepover. Her hair was pulled up in a flawless ponytail, which hung to one side as she smiled gently at him. 

“I’m glad you came back, Jug,” she said quietly.

He smiled and took the stool next to her, glancing over at her mom. “Of course I did. I thought really hard about tossing a molotov cocktail into The Crypt on my way over, but I don’t want to do any jail time.”

Alice looked toward the ceiling. “At least one of you Jones men is rational,” she muttered. “Well, I’m going to lock up the house and go to bed. Jughead, lock the door behind you when you leave, please.”

Jughead nodded and said, “Of course, Mrs. Cooper. Have a good night.”

She quietly went upstairs, leaving Betty and Jughead in the kitchen with warm tea and sandwiches. He didn’t even look at the food, but reached over and took Betty’s hand in his. She caressed the side of his hand with her fingers, looking back into his eyes. 

“Luckily, tomorrow is the last day of our suspension,” she murmured, the ghost of a smile playing over her lips. 

Jughead shook his head a bit. “Great. School is like a safe haven for me,” he said sarcastically.

She definitely smiled then, tilting her head. “I think of the Blue and Gold that way, at least,” she commented. Then her expression grew serious. “Jughead,” she said, her brows knitting together. “I don’t think I can go to sleep tonight.”

He moved closer to her, his fingers tightening on hers. “I’m here for you,” he said, “if you want me to stay, then I’ll stay.”

She glanced over at the stairs. “But, my mom—“

Jughead smirked a bit. “Oh, I didn’t even get to tell you about Operation Falice today.”

Betty mirrored his smile. “Really? Did you find out something good?”

He nodded, still smiling. “I caught them, actually.”

Her eyebrows raised. “What? Really? You have to tell me what happened.”

Jughead slid off his stool and stood up, tugging her along with him. “I’ll tell you everything I know, but do you think we can lay down and talk? It’s been a very long day.”

Betty nodded seriously, her eyes flickering over to the front door. Jughead let go of her hands and crossed the room, testing the handle. It was definitely locked. He turned back to Betty, who looked visibly relieved. She began making her way upstairs, and Jughead followed.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead and Betty take the situation into their own hands.

When sunlight began shining through Betty’s window, Jughead was wincing as feeling painfully returned to his arm. He’d fallen asleep holding Betty, and some time during the night his arm had fallen asleep too. He slowly stretched, curling and uncurling his fingers as pins and needles streamed through his left arm.

Betty mumbled in her sleep, rolling toward him.

He gently kissed her forehead. She’d had a difficult time falling asleep the night before, jumping at each little sound they heard downstairs. Jughead had told her what he’d found out, first about FP and Alice, then about JB’s time in Toledo, and even about his mother’s resentment that they were dating. Betty curled up against his chest as she listened, her head tucked under his chin. After a little while, her breathing slowed and he realized that she’d fallen asleep.

He lay there, feeling out of place in her childhood bedroom. He’d never spent the night in the Cooper house before, but Jughead felt like yesterday had been enough trauma for everyone that it was understandable just this once.

In his mind, he was running over the encounter he’d had with Malachi the day before. Was he laughing because Jughead had come looking for his sister, when the Ghoulies had known that Betty was literally lying in a tomb all along? Remembering the gang leader’s laughter, he couldn’t help thinking that Malachi had been amused by his naive, blundering bargaining to find his sister when his girl was trapped across town.

Jughead thought again of FP’s admission that it had been an act of war, and he wondered if his dad had any ideas about their retaliation yet. He had thought of a few ways they might return the favor, though Jughead wasn’t interested in attacking any unsuspecting friends or relatives of the Ghoulies. They’d have to go after something that Malachi found just as precious, though. 

He glanced up at Betty’s window, noticing that the lights were on next door at Archie’s. Their close proximity used to bother Jughead, but he let himself caress Betty’s exposed arm as Archie tugged on a clean shirt and rushed out of the room to go to school. She unconsciously snuggled closer to him. Whatever had happened between them, they’d consistently demonstrated that they were nothing more than friends. Jughead wasn’t jealous of Archie at all—well, maybe that he got to see Betty every day as they grew up, but for a while Jughead had shared the room next door too.

His mind wandered back home, running over everything he’d found out the day before. Why didn’t everyone just speak to one another in his family? The truth always seemed to resolve so many problems that complicated things for all of them. He thought ruefully that this was probably why he enjoyed writing so much. There was a certain cathartic charm in uncovering a story, explaining it, and then publishing it for the town to read.

His thoughts circled around to his sister, after thinking of the school newspaper. He wasn’t sure what he’d do about JB, but as things were he wasn’t looking forward to going back to school tomorrow. She’d been nothing but trouble to everyone since she came back, and he didn’t know what to do about her constantly nasty attitude.

Betty stirred and he looked over at her with a smile. Her green eyes were sparkling as she blinked in the morning light. Jughead smoothed a hand over her hair and gently kissed her.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said softly.

Betty nestled against him, closing her eyes again. “Thank you, Jug, for staying,” she said softly.

Jughead tightened his arms around her a little and said, “I don’t ever want to leave your side, Betty.” He hadn’t told her what his dad said about the gang war. There was no point in worrying her over what part he might play in that situation. Knowing Betty, she would insist on being involved. Jughead didn’t want to put her in any more danger than he already had.

He heard his phone buzzing on the ground in his jacket pocket. Betty looked up at him expectantly, loosening the tangle of their limbs so that he could get it. Jughead would have preferred to let it go to voicemail, but he rolled over and reached for it anyway.

“Jughead?” It was his mother.

He tensed, all the worries of the day before rushing back. “Yeah?” he said.

“JB is awake,” she told him. She didn’t have to say anything else about it.

“Betty and I will be there in a few,” he said. After yesterday, he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight, if he could help it.

She frowned as he hung up. “Everything okay?” 

Jughead let out a long breath and said, “Did you have plans for today?”

Betty shook her head. “I’m not sure that my mom will let me out of the house, after yesterday. But I’m going with you.”

He was immediately grateful once again to have her in his life. Whatever happened, Betty always seemed to understand exactly what he was thinking. They got out of her bed and Jughead found his jeans, beanie, and jacket from the floor. He’d change when he got home. 

Betty slipped out of her tank top and found a peach-toned bra, quickly slipping into it. She glanced over at Jughead, who was sitting on the end of her bed and watching appreciatively as she dressed. Other than the bruise on her shoulder, he was relieved to see that she hadn’t been any further injured by the Ghoulies the day before.

She found a pair of straight-legged jeans and a loose T-shirt the color of orange creamsicle milkshakes at Pop’s. Betty looked in the mirror of her vanity for a moment, brushing fresh mascara over her eyelashes and running a towelette over her face. 

She brushed her hair and pulled it into a ponytail. Turning to Jughead, she smiled and said, “Just let me brush my teeth and we’ll go.”

As she stepped out of the room, he ran his tongue over his own teeth to check their condition. Nothing to do but clean up once he got home.

Betty came back holding a jacket over one arm. 

“Okay,” he said, swinging his key ring around and following her downstairs.

Alice either wasn’t up yet, or she wasn’t going to try and stop them. Betty grabbed an apple from a bowl as she passed through the kitchen, tossing it to Jughead. She took a second one for herself and picked up her reassembled bag from the little table next to the coat stand.

When they got on his motorcycle, she nestled her whole body against his back. Jughead tugged his beanie into place since Betty was wearing the helmet. He started the engine and made the short trip across town, passing the cars of students who were heading over to Riverdale High. Fangs honked briefly at him in his grandma’s car, and Jughead smirked as he waved in response.

When they reached Sunnyside, he parked in front of the trailer and helped Betty tuck the helmet into the bag on the back of the bike. She took his hand as they walked toward the door, giving him a supportive squeeze.

JB and his mom were sitting at the table. The bathroom door was closed, the sounds of the shower permeating the small space. When he and Betty came in, a look passed over Gladys’ face but she quickly replaced it with a smile.

“Hello, I don’t think we’ve met yet, but you must be Betty,” she said.

He felt her squeeze his hand again. “Yes, Mrs. Jones, it’s nice to meet you too.”

Gladys looked her up and down, then said, “Has anyone told you that you look just like your mother, when she was your age?”

Betty’s smile didn’t falter, but she replied, “No, most people don’t notice the resemblance.”

JB had been oddly silent, pushing a piece of toast around on her plate. Jughead wasn’t used to seeing food around the trailer like this, since he and his dad lived almost exclusively on takeout. It looked like someone had made eggs.

His sister glanced over at Betty and quietly said, “How’s your face?”

Jughead was just as surprised as Betty looked. She looked over and said, “Better. How about you?” she asked.

A wicked look flashed over JB’s face for a moment before she said, “Oh, I’m fine, since you hit like a little girl.”

Gladys gave her a dark look. “JB,” she snapped.

His sister sighed. “Sorry,” she mumbled, more to Gladys than Betty.

They stood there for another moment, the tension increasing with each heartbeat. Jughead opened a cupboard and pulled out two clean mugs, glancing at the coffee pot on the counter. He reached over and slid the sugar jar nearer, scooping two heaping spoonfuls. There was just enough milk in the fridge for cream.

Betty settled down at the table, taking her apple out of her pocket and calmly having a bite. Silence fell heavy in the kitchen until FP emerged from the bathroom, wet hair sticking up at every angle, his t-shirt clinging to a few water droplets on his back. He smiled brightly at Betty.

“Hi, Mr. Jones,” she said, a little twinge of relief in her voice. 

“Doing alright, Betty?” he asked.

She self-consciously rubbed the bandage on her right wrist and shrugged, pressing her lips together. “I guess,” she said.

FB snorted a bit. “I figured you were soft,” she said under her breath, glancing over. 

Jughead set down the mugs of coffee a little bit forcefully, glaring over at his sister. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he snapped, letting her know that he’d heard her.

JB’s eyes flashed as she looked over at him, but she didn’t say anything.

FP leaned against the wall after fixing his own cup of coffee. He looked down at JB and said, “Before anyone does anything else, you’re going to tell us the truth, Jellybean Jones.”

She looked over at Gladys and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. Their mother leaned over and put a hand on her shoulder. “Come on, sweetheart,” she said, giving her a supportive look.

Jughead wondered if she realized how she’d contributed to a war between the Serpents and the Ghoulies, how in two days she’d effectively undone everything that he and his father had worked so long to maintain. He took a sip of his coffee and glanced at Betty, who gave him a look that suggested she didn’t think they were going to get anywhere with this. 

JB was quiet for a moment, and when she looked up her eyes were filled with tears. “I’m sorry, so truly sorry, everyone,” she cried. The tears began to spill down her cheeks, dripping off her chin. “I just wanted to find a way to support myself, and when I posted online that I was moving back to Riverdale, someone contacted me with a job offer. I didn’t know who they were, but it sounded like such a good chance to make sure that I wasn’t a burden to anyone.”

Gladys patted her arm, looking over with a soothing expression. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re not a burden,” she cooed.

Jughead took another sip of his coffee. After the many times he’d seen JB cry this week, he wasn’t being fooled by the waterworks. It seemed that whatever the truth really was, she wasn’t willing to share it with their mother.

Betty nudged his knee under the table, giving him another look. Jughead set down his mug and got up from the table. He’d use this chance to get ready for the day, grab some clean clothes, and get out of here. It seemed clear that JB wasn’t willing to help them, whatever her motives had been.

He heard his dad say something in response, the low tone seemingly indicating that FP was asking for clarification. Jughead brushed his teeth and ran a brush through his hair. Betty had cut it a few months ago, when she’d been staying with them to avoid her brother, Chic. It was starting to get long again, he noticed. Replacing his beanie, he went into the bedroom to change his clothes. 

Grabbing an extra set to stash in the motorcycle bag, just in case, he tucked them under his arm and went back into the kitchen. JB was still crying, using a napkin to dab at her cheeks. Betty subtly rolled her eyes when he looked at her. Good—so she wasn’t buying the act, either.

His mother turned to him when he came back into the kitchen. “We were just discussing your father letting this go,” she said. “Whatever involvement the Serpents might have had with the Ghoulies in the past, we think it’s time to stop engaging with them.”

At that ludicrous statement, Jughead looked to FP. His dad blinked and raised his coffee mug evasively, his eyes looking anywhere but at Gladys. He turned to his mother and put on a little smile, nodding. “Sure, mom. I think Betty and I will go over to the library today. We’ve got some research to do for the school paper.”

FP kept a steady gaze on Jughead. “Why don’t you take your sister?” he said, tossing Jughead the keys to the Accord. “Keep her out of trouble for a few hours, until you’re both back in school tomorrow.”

He understood the unspoken message. So dad realized that JB wasn’t telling the truth, either. Jughead smiled down at JB, gesturing toward the door. “Come on, JB. We can get a milkshake after we’re done at the library.”

She looked up with trepidation, probably put off by his expression. Glancing at Gladys, who looked genuinely happy to see her kids getting along, JB could see that there was no escape. She smiled frostily back. “Sure, Jughead. That sounds swell,” she said, and he didn’t miss the lilt of sarcasm in her tone.

The three of them filed out of the trailer toward the Honda. Betty wordlessly got into the back seat, meeting his eyes in the rear view mirror as he slid behind the steering wheel. JB got into the passenger seat, her little skull and crossbones bag perched on her knees.

Jughead started the engine and pulled out of Sunnyside. He glanced at the gas gauge, grateful to see that they had three quarters of a tank. Rather than turning left out of the trailer park, he turned right after hardly slowing down. JB was jostled into the center console, and she shot him a glare.

“I didn’t think the library was very far away,” she said, as he got on the expressway entrance ramp.

Betty leaned forward from the back seat. “Oh, it’s not,” she said, her voice low and calm. “We’re not going to the library, Jellybean.”

JB glanced back. “Oh, I see,” she snapped. “So you think that the two of you are going to get me back, or something? Well, I really had nothing to do with yesterday, so forget about it.”

Jughead realized that the more she talked, the more nervous she was getting. He didn’t respond to her, but put on his turn signal before he sped in front of a car in the passing lane. Pushing the gas pedal, he glanced in the mirrors for any signs of the police. Seeing that the roads were clear, he kept pushing the car until it was humming with speed. He noticed with gratification that JB looked a little bit pale.

Betty leaned forward again, her fingers slipping around JB’s seat belt. She tugged a little bit, tightening the belt across his sister’s lap. She glanced over, her tough girl facade betraying her again for a moment as she saw how fast the trees and signs were flying by outside her window. Jughead didn’t slow down.

“Time for some honesty, Jellybean,” Betty purred. Her eyes narrowed as she tugged the belt a little bit tighter.

His sister looked over at him, then. “I’ll tell mom about this,” she said.

Jughead finally glanced over at her and replied, “I thought you weren’t eight years old any more, Jellybean.”

Her expression twisted into a sour fury. She raised a hand to hold onto her safety belt, tugging back against Betty’s grip. When she found that she wasn’t in a position with enough leverage to tug herself free, she glared around at both of them. “In Toledo, I was running Jangle for the Ghosts,” she snapped.

Betty laughed lightly, without humor. “You’ll have to give us more than that, Jellybean,” she drawled. Jughead changed lanes abruptly again, speeding around a semi truck. It honked as they passed, probably alarmed at their speed. This wasn’t anything different from drag racing the Ghoulies, he told himself. Seeing the exit he’d been aiming for, he jerked the wheel to the side and sped up the ramp.

Luckily, Betty was already braced against the side of the car. When he turned, JB knocked her head and right shoulder against the passenger door and let out a little yelp.

He glanced over at her. “I’ve cut someone out of the Serpents before for doing less than you’ve done,” he said, not bothering to conceal the anger in his voice. “Give me some information, or I’ll be happy to take care of that ridiculous clipart tattoo for you, too.”

He met Betty’s eyes in the mirror. No shock, no horror—in this, like most things, she was with him one hundred percent. He wondered whether she thought he was bluffing.

JB seemed to be weighing out the same thing in her mind, because her lips were pressed into a thin line and she continued to struggle against Betty’s grip on her seatbelt. Jughead was flying down a country road, now, between two open farm fields. Dust rose up behind the Accord like a parachute, scattered from beneath the wheels as the speedometer approached ninety. He visualized where he was heading, an abandoned factory that had operated just outside the borders of mid-century Riverdale. From the road, it looked terrifyingly forsaken. He was betting that his sister wasn’t going to want to spend the night there.

She seemed to reach some conclusion, because her hands tightened on her little backpack. Looking over, she said, “What I told mom and dad was true. I told the Ghosts that I was leaving, and they contacted the Ghoulies. They paid off the debts I owed the Ghosts. At the party, they told me that they were cutting Reggie out and dealing me in. They’d set him up to be caught by the Sheriff to keep the police off their trail.”

Jughead frowned, letting himself slow down a little. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he said. “Reggie could turn them in. He’s not a Ghoulie, he’s a snitch.”

Betty said, “They didn’t do business with him directly,” from the back seat. “When Veronica and I tried to follow the trail to the Sugarman, he told us that he only had one contact. Reggie didn’t know anything.”

That did make sense, then. The Ghoulies had been handed a Northside scapegoat, just as neatly as a gift wrapped package. Sheriff Keller wouldn’t be as hard on Reggie as he might have been on anyone from the Southside, and if the Riverdale Police had made Jingle Jangle their next project, then Malachi had to do something. With Jellybean coming in from out of town, already owing the Ghosts a favor, he had a perfect new dealer at his disposal.

He looked over at her. “So what about last night?” he asked, still frowning.

She shook her head. “You already know the truth, too. They wanted to try a new mix and said that I’d sell better if I knew what I was delivering. I did that sort of thing all the time in Toledo, too.”

Betty relaxed her grip, and JB adjusted the seatbelt gratefully. Now that JB was talking, there was no point in continuing to threaten her. She said sympathetically, “This isn’t Toledo, JB. You can have a new start here in Riverdale. Veronica did when she moved here, too.”

JB looked over and exhaled slowly. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I’ve already made a deal.”

Jughead felt his stomach constrict. “What sort of deal?” he asked.

She looked over, her face stricken but tear-free. That was how he knew that she was still telling the truth. “I promised that I would keep dealing, if they would help me get rid of you and dad,” she said, her voice shaking.

Jughead saw the driveway and turned, the back end skidding over the gravel as he hit the brakes. Then yesterday _had_ been her fault, even if she’d been indirect. Malachi had hit Jughead right where he knew it would hurt the most—Betty. He glanced into the rear view mirror and saw her, looking completely unshaken by that information. If anything, her expression looked even more resolved. She leaned forward until her face was next to JB’s ear.

“That was a huge mistake,” she said softly.

Now, JB sunk back into the seat. She looked over at Jughead with wide eyes.

“Why?” he asked simply, slowing down as they approached the factory. Not a single window was in tact, with broken glass sparkling over the gravel as far as the eye could see. He parked a short distance from the open warehouse door, not wanting to drive over the glass and end up with a flat tire. The lack of motion seemed to put a little wind back in JB’s sails, because she straightened in her chair.

“Mom told me all about you, and dad,” she said, raising her chin. “You’re going to end up in jail, just like him. And the next time that dad screws up, they’re going to lock him up for a long time. Mom and I just have to take care of ourselves and make sure that you don’t take us down with you. I wanted to get rid of you before you made anything worse for us.”

Jughead felt his blood boil at that. It was so easy to believe that this was exactly what his mom thought of him, why she’d run away as soon as he’d gotten into the smallest ounce of trouble. This was why she’d left him in the foster system rather than bringing him with her. Whatever issues she had with FP, she’d let them change the way she thought of Jughead, too. 

And whatever she’d been telling Jellybean all this time in Toledo, he was sure it had changed the way she thought of her family. She was just a kid when they’d left, after all. And hadn’t his mom admitted pretty much the same thing yesterday outside the Wyrm?

Jughead looked over at Betty. She was trembling with a silent fury, her eyes narrowed as she looked at JB’s reflection in the mirror. He looked over at JB before sliding his phone out of his pocket. 

_You have to talk to mom._

_JB made a deal to get rid of you and me_

He was about to slide it back in his pocket when it buzzed. Glancing down, he saw a message from his dad that read, _Got it, thank you_.

He looked over at his sister. “Now that this is taken care of, I’ll give you a choice, Jellybean. Either we can go home and get this sorted out together, or you can stay here and call one of your new friends for help.”

JB frowned, seeming to think it over. But Betty interrupted the moment of silence by saying, “JB, I think that your mom is wrong about your dad and your brother. I know you’ll think I’m just saying this, but your dad is actually a really good person. So many things that have happened to him are because of other people in this screwed up town—my mom included.”

She looked over at Betty, her expression inscrutable. After a moment, she sighed deeply. “I didn’t know,” she said, her lips trembling. “I just heard for so long, how selfish and terrible they were, I started to forget the good times I had here.”

Then she put her face in her hands and let out a low sob, turning away from both of them. Jughead exhaled and started the car, throwing it in reverse.

“Come home, Jellybean,” he said. “Dad and I will take care of this.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead and FP take care of business, with a little help from Betty.

Jughead and Betty pulled in outside the Whyte Wyrm, parking the motorcycle alongside a small fleet of similar bikes. They’d dropped off JB at home, where Gladys had been waiting at the door with a stern expression. She’d thrown an arm around the young teen as JB walked up the steps, throwing a small wave to Jughead before disappearing into the trailer.

He still wasn’t sure what to think of his mother. In a detached, writerly sort of way, he could understand her position. Working at the Whyte Wyrm, getting married to FP because she was pregnant with Jughead, trying to save for a house while he was sliding further into alcoholism, losing him to prison, seeing her son begin down the same inescapable cycle...if he hadn’t been a primary character in the story, he might have been able to sympathize with her choices. But deep down, some part of him couldn’t reconcile the fact that she was actually his mother, that she’d turned her back on him so undeniably she’d managed to turn his own sister against him. He’d always have a yearning for that fairy tale, department store catalog family that ate together every night and smiled perfect smiles in front of a well-trimmed Christmas tree as they wore matching holiday pajamas. But Jughead was enough of a realist to see that he’d have to make that life for his own family one day, if he still wanted it.

He held Betty’s hand as they walked into the bar, grateful to see Toni pouring drinks rather than Gladys. She smiled over at them as they approached, filling two glasses with soda even though they hadn’t asked.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Betty,” she said immediately, her expression serious. “And I’m glad you’re both coming back to school tomorrow,” she looked over at Jughead too.

He was about to say something when there was a shout from across the bar. Looking over, he saw his dad calling people to gather around. 

Jughead made his way over, thinking over what JB had told him in the car. So it was definitely a war the Ghoulies wanted, and he and his dad were slated as the casualties. This also wasn’t the first time they’d made a bid for the entire Southside. He thought for a moment about his dad’s admission that Betty’s abduction wasn’t the first time they’d done that sort of thing.

He felt Betty trail behind him, her fingers still curled around his. 

“This is the last time we’ll let them muscle us around,” said FP loudly, looking around at the gathered Serpents.

A few cheered, raising fists or glasses. Jughead did notice several looking away, though. Probably they were those who had supported Penny and Tall Boy.

One stepped forward, scowling. “All of this over a Northside girl,” he growled, approaching FP. 

Jughead was gratified to see his dad hold his ground. “Betty has our protection,” he growled back. “And they went after my Jellybean, too. In unity, there is strength.” He paused, sweeping his gaze over the gathered faces. “We would do the same for any of your kids. No Serpent stands alone.”

Jughead stepped forward then, drawing the attention to himself. “I have an idea,” he said. “A way to hit them where it hurts, but I’m not sure how to end this.”

The older Serpent turned toward him, and FP raised his eyebrows. “Well, what is it, boy?” he asked.

He looked around at the group. “They love their cars, right? Well, why don’t we take some for a spin?”

FP shook his head. “Do you know how many we would have to hot wire?”

Betty slipped forward, a little shyly. “I know how,” she said. “And I could show a few people.”

Jughead grinned, turning back toward his dad. FP stared at them for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, if we wear gloves we could do it. No fingerprints,” he warned, glancing around at those standing nearby. He smiled, adding, “If they want them back, we’ll open negotiations and put an end to this.”

Betty squeezed his hand, pressing closer to his side as the crowd shouted in agreement. Jughead looked over at her and felt a twist of fear shoot through him as he saw her determined expression. He was glad that Betty was willing to help, but if she insisted on going along for the theft, not only would she be in harm’s way again—she would be breaking the law. He wondered if he could really do that to her.

Jughead remembered a night not long ago when Betty reminded him that it wasn’t his choice to keep her uninvolved—it was hers. He squeezed her hand back, heart pounding as he began to pray that they wouldn’t run into any complications, or get caught.

FP looked around, seeming to visually take stock of the people gathered. He gestured to one, then looked over at Betty.

“You two, take six people outside and show them what we’re doing. I know at least four that already know, so that makes twelve of us in total. That should be enough,” he commanded.

Jughead turned to follow Betty outside, but FP grabbed his shoulder. He turned, frowning. “Dad, I’m going to go with Betty,” he protested.

His dad shook his head. “The hit is on both of us, boy. You’re coming with me. Betty can handle this.”

He couldn’t argue with that, so he remained behind as a certain blonde made her way outside, trailed by Sweet Pea, Byrdie, and Fangs. The others had already left, following the older Serpent his dad had sent out. She glanced back at Jughead, giving him a little smile before crossing the threshold. 

Again, he wondered if he could do anything to stop her involvement. While it was satisfying knowing that they were going to get their revenge, he was preoccupied in worrying about Betty getting caught. Her mother might be able to forgive him spending the night, but he was willing to bet that Alice Cooper wasn’t going to look very kindly on him getting her daughter arrested.

FP clapped a hand on his shoulder. “That was a good thought, boy,” he said. “Come upstairs, we’re bringing the masks for anyone that’s going to take a car. I have to tell you something, too.”

Jughead turned, following FP up the stairs at the back of the bar. Similar to the second floor of The Crypt, the extra space in the Whyte Wyrm was used mostly as storage. Nothing incriminating was kept there, of course, aside from a small cardboard box of rubber snake halloween masks. He’d been startled in the middle of the night once by a crowd of Serpents wearing them as they dropped off Hot Dog. 

FP stopped next to the box, turning around to face his son.

“What, dad?” he asked, frowning.

He sighed, looking away. “I talked to your mother after I got the message. And I came clean, about everything.”

Jughead frowned. His dad, to his knowledge, had already cleaned up most of his life. Aside from his involvement with the Serpents, he was pretty much doing everything that Gladys had always wanted. Confused, he said, “What do you mean?”

FP rubbed the back of his neck, still looking away. “I told her about Alice,” he explained.

Jughead couldn’t do much other than say, “Oh.”

His dad glanced over and continued, “She wasn’t happy, but she understood. Your mom decided to leave years ago, Jughead, and as far as I knew she wasn’t planning on coming back. We never signed the papers, but there were a few times we talked about it.”

He’d assumed as much, always wondering why they’d never finalized their separation. It seemed, finally, that he was going to get some answers.

FP leaned back against the wall, sighing. “I always loved Gladys, but Alice and I had something…explosive. Not good for any of us,” he paused. “We decided to do what was right for you kids, for all of you. But things worked out differently for us,” he said, meaning Jughead’s family as compared to Betty’s. Thinking about it, Jughead wasn’t sure. He didn’t bring up Betty’s sociopathic brother or runaway sister, or Hal’s request for a divorce. As he considered those things, he realized that he had his very own psychopathic sister. Life was still messy for everyone.

Instead, he said, “Things can still get better.”

FP laughed shortly. “Yeah, I think they well. Your mom has always wanted a house, and it’s finally going to happen. But Jughead, what I wanted to tell you…” he paused, looking straight at his son. “Don’t make the same mistakes that I did, boy. You hold on to her, you protect her, and you never let her go.”

He felt a stirring of pride at his dad’s words, raising his chin as he said, “I love her.”

FP nodded, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I know, son. We’ll get through this, all of us. And afterwards, we’ll make sure that this town knows that messing with Betty means messing with all of us.”

He thought again of her attempt to get a tattoo, then of the way that she’d volunteered to participate in their revenge raid. For all intents and purposes, Betty had made herself an inextricable part of the gang, maybe more than others. Jughead smiled at his dad, genuinely grateful to have his support. Even if FP didn’t always keep his son’s best interests in mind, he was nothing but supportive at the end of the day.

They began to walk downstairs, Jughead carrying the box. FP snatched a mask out of it, taking a sniff.

“Those are probably pretty nasty,” Jughead commented, smirking. 

FP made a face. “I’m not sure that words could describe this,” he replied. “Too many people sweating inside these, too many times. We should wash them.”

Jughead grinned outright, imagining a row of masks laid outside on a parking block to dry in the sun. He set the box down on the end of the bar and gestured for Toni to come over, glancing over at his dad. 

“I’m going to wipe them out, at least,” he said. “Toni, grab some napkins and a cup of water, please.”

FP went outside to check on the hot wiring lessons, returning a short time later with a group of Serpents trailing behind. He gestured to a Serpent at the back of the bar, calling them over. 

Betty returned with a smile, coming over to see what Jughead and Toni were doing. They used napkins to wipe out the inside of the rubber masks, setting them on the bar as they finished their work. FP turned and picked one up, holding it out to Betty.

“In unity, there is strength,” he said, as she took the mask from his hands.

Jughead had the brief, insane memory of Betty wearing her dark wig and lacy lingerie as she took the mask. There was nothing attractive about these Halloween disguises, though. Maybe it was the look in her eyes as she glanced over, like she could set the whole town on fire without an ounce of remorse. A chill ran over his spine, not unpleasantly. 

“I think we’re ready to go,” she said.

FP looked over at Jughead. “We all go separately. Toni can take four at a time in the car. Wait for the signal, and then take them at once.”

Betty nodded. “What’s the signal?” she asked.

Jughead held up his phone. “A text message,” he smiled, seeing the look on her face at the anticlimactic response.

He tossed masks over to the other waiting Serpents. The person FP had signaled returned, carrying a jacket over their arm.

“Can’t have anyone picking you out of a crowd,” FP said, taking the jacket and draping it over Betty’s shoulders. “Just for tonight,” he added quietly.

She slipped her arms in, still holding the mask. As she glanced over at Jughead, she took the band out of her hair and shook out her golden mane. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything sexier in his life.

Toni circled out from behind the bar, catching the keys that Fangs tossed to her. They followed, with Betty getting in the car in the first group. Jughead watched her go, his heart pounding again with adrenaline and dread.

When Toni came back, he slid into the back seat next to Sweet Pea, his dad taking the passenger seat. The ride across the Southside to The Crypt was short, and the car was silent. When they got there, the others were waiting in a nearby alley. 

FP gestured to Jughead. “Get the signal ready,” he said. Pulling out his phone, Jughead created a group message with everyone that had come along, preparing just the word “ _Go_ ” in the body. He looked up when he was done. “We’re going inside,” FP explained. “Get those cars out of here, meet at exit 391 and kill the engines. Wait for a message from me or Jughead.”

At that, the group donned their rubber masks. Betty’s eyes met Jughead’s before she pulled hers in place, tucking her hair into the collar of her jacket.

She followed the others to the parking lot, creeping between the cars so that they wouldn’t be noticed in the overhead streetlights. Jughead turned, following FP into The Crypt.

His dad burst through the door, striding proudly over to the bar. Jughead followed, glancing around as a few Ghoulies looked up at them. He kept his expression stony, knowing that they were here to buy Betty and the others enough time to get away.

The bartender approached them, looking over their identical jackets as he frowned. “What will it be?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

FP made a show of considering, rolling his head to the side like he was stretching his neck. He glanced over at Jughead, then said, “Two whiskey sours.”

The bartender looked at Jughead, too. “Kid can’t be more than seventeen,” he commented. “We don’t serve minors here.”

FP gave him a hard stare. “I didn’t say that it was for the kid,” he said.

Jughead leaned forward. “I’ll have a coke,” he said.

The bartender kept staring, but he fished out three glasses and lined them up. Filling one with the soda gun, he turned to get a bottle of whiskey from the bottom shelf. He poured four shots into FP’s glasses, finishing them off with a bottle of sour mix. After he finished serving them, he pulled out his phone and tapped the screen several times.

FP slid one glass over and drank it in a single go, throwing his head back. He set down the empty glass and closed his eyes.

Jughead sipped his coke and unlocked his phone, hitting “send”. 

Before FP could touch the second drink, a hand clapped down on his shoulder.

“What do you think you’re doing, boys?” asked a familiar voice.

Malachi stood behind them, looking like they’d pissed on his grandmother’s grave. Jughead calmly took another drink, turning away.

“Just spending my green money here, same as anyone else,” FP replied. “Thought I’d take my son out for the evening.”

Malachi laughed, looking over at Jughead. “Oh yeah? Your son and I are good friends, actually. Not as good as your daughter, but we’re working on that.”

Jughead tightened his grip on his glass, noticing his dad’s tense expression too. Whatever sick implication Malachi was making, he was getting what he deserved tonight.

FP turned, glaring openly. “Yeah, I heard that she was mixed up with some trash. I actually wanted to sort that out.”

Malachi leaned closer. “Well, we own her now. And it’s a matter of time before we own your boy, too. And the rest of your territory.”

Jughead turned then. He looked Malachi in the eyes. “You’d have to kill me,” he said quietly, knowing that he was baiting their enemy. Betty should have had enough time by now.

Malachi laughed again. “That can be arranged, little worm!” he exclaimed, reaching out to put a hand on Jughead’s shoulder too.

FP turned in one fluid motion and sunk his fist into Malachi’s face, knocking back the rival gang leader. Instantly, the bartender and three other grown men leaped at him. Someone tried to throw a punch back, but Jughead ducked under their arm and felt his own fist connect with flesh. 

The brief skirmish lasted only a few minutes, before one of the Ghoulies was able to successfully land a hit on FP that sent him tumbling back against the bar. Jughead felt someone grab a handful of his hat, and hair, pulling him off balance before a fist connected with his ribs.

He’d endured worse during the gauntlet, and after he caught his breath he twisted against the person holding his hair. That left them with a handful of knit beanie, without anybody attached. Jughead punched upwards, his fist connecting with the bottom of his assailant’s jaw.

He felt his dad’s shoulder against his as FP passed him, tackling Malachi to the ground. Jughead kept throwing punches, trying to keep people from kicking his dad as FP hit Malachi over and over.

Finally, someone’s fist connected with the side of his head. Jughead couldn’t focus on anything for a moment as darkness and fireworks burst across his field of vision. Another fist caught him under the ribs, and he felt himself falling to the ground.

His phone started buzzing in his pocket, but feet were colliding with his body at the same time. The distant thought that he might die in this place crossed his mind, but some rational corner reasoned that the Ghoulies would hardly want the police investigating their headquarters in a murder case. At least his dad had been smart enough to fight them in a semi-sacred location.

He faded in and out of consciousness for a few minutes, seeing FP get pulled off Malachi and kicked a few feet away. Jughead curled his body, trying to present his attackers with the least sensitive targets possible.

Malachi struggled to his feet, his hands feeling the damage that FP had done to his face. Someone tossed him a towel, and he used it to wipe the blood away from his nose and mouth. 

“Stop,” he said, and the beating instantly ceased. He knelt next to FP, who wasn’t moving. 

Someone handed him a glass of water, which he splashed over FP’s face. Jughead tried not to notice how the water turned pink with blood as it pooled across the floor. His dad sputtered and blinked, raising one arm to defend himself.

While Malachi was focused on his dad, Jughead checked his phone. It was a message from Betty, simply reading _All clear_.

He looked over at FP across the floor and nodded slightly, hoping that his dad understood.

Someone grabbed him by the collar then, pulling him up off the floor. They sat him on the bar stool in front of his coke with a bit of a shove, leaving Jughead to hold himself up with his elbow. He was sure that he was going to look like Christmas tomorrow, already feeling his face swelling where he’d been hit. No one slid him a towel or glass of water, though. Not for one minute did he forget that he was in enemy territory. 

As Ghoulies hoisted FP back up to the bar, Jughead heard his dad start to laugh. The sound seemed to infuriate Malachi, who gestured and had someone sucker punch FP in the gut. Coughing and recovering his breath, FP looked up with a humorless smile.

“You don’t even know,” he laughed, maintaining eye contact. 

Malachi froze. “Know what?” he demanded, looking from FP to Jughead. 

That was his cue. “They’re gone,” Jughead said, smiling. “If you want them back, then you’ll have to make a deal.”

Malachi approached him then, lowering his face to level with Jughead. “What’s gone?” he hissed, his eyes narrowing to slits.

FP butted in. “Your cars,” he said, drawing Malachi away. “If you want them back, you’ll have to make a deal,” he echoed.

Malachi gestured to one of the Ghoulies, who rushed out of the room. He got closer to FP. “I swear, FP, if you’ve done anything stupid, neither of you will leave here alive.”

FP nodded to Jughead. “Are you sure? My son is a good friend of Sheriff Keller’s son. And he’s dating a Northside girl. They won’t stop looking for him if he doesn’t go to school tomorrow.”

Malachi glanced over, then spit on the floor. Before he could say anything, the Ghoulie that had gone to check the lot came running back inside. 

“They’re gone,” he gasped. “All of them!”

Malachi turned to FP, glaring. “Tell me where they are, _now_ , or he’s dead.”

Jughead felt someone grab him, and sensed without seeing that the barrel of a gun was being pressed against his head. He froze, staring at his dad.

FP called the bluff. “Harm a single hair on his head, and you’ll never know. I’ll torch every last one of them,” he growled.

Malachi stared at him for a moment, then gestured. The Ghoulie let Jughead go.

He leaned forward, as far away from them as possible. For a brief moment, he’d thought that this might be where his story ended. Trying not to let them see how shaken he’d been, Jughead nodded to his dad.

Malachi regarded FP with unbridled fury. “What do you want?” he demanded.

FP straightened. “Ask nicely,” he shot back, even as his face was blossoming with bruises. 

The leader of the Ghoulies let loose a growl of frustration. “What do you want?” he repeated, his voice rising in both pitch and volume.

“Cut my sister out,” Jughead spoke up, before anyone said anything else. 

FP looked at him sharply, as if to tell him not to negotiate anything else. “Stop dealing to the Northside,” he said, drawing Malachi’s attention back.

“That’s most of our customer base,” Malachi argued, shaking his head. “No, we can’t do that. We’ll buy new engines, better ones, for that price.”

FP shook his head. “Then stop dealing to kids,” he spat. “Cut my girl out, and leave the kids alone.”

Malachi smiled maliciously. “Never knew you had such a soft spot,” he drawled sarcastically.

Jughead was close enough. He reached in his pocket and closed his hand around metal. Flipping the blade as he drew it out, he wrapped an arm around Malachi and positioned his knife along his throat. In his haste, it knocked Malachi’s neck a bit. 

The rival gang leader stiffened. He looked over at Jughead as much as possible, then turned back to FP. “Fine, no kids,” he spat. “Bring them back.”

FP shook his head. “I want you to swear that this is over. No more blood between Serpents and Ghoulies. No more involving the kids, and no more involvement between us.”

Malachi looked furiously at FP, his body trembling with rage. Jughead gave his knife a little push, the rational alarm bells ringing throughout his mind. He wasn’t really willing to go much further than this, but that was a bluff that Malachi would have to call.

Finally, he extended a hand. “Yes,” he said simply.

FP clasped his hand as Jughead relaxed his grip. He stepped back, feeling his bar stool hit the back of his knees.

As the rival gang leaders shook hands, the others backed away too. Malachi leaned in and said something quietly to FP, who replied. Jughead wasn’t close enough to hear, or able to read their lips. He would just have to ask his dad about it later.

FP gestured to him. Jughead took out his phone and text messaged Betty, typing out, _Bring them back, it’s done_.

 _Are you okay?_ was her immediate response, but he put his phone back in his pocket.

FP took his arm and pushed him toward the door at that moment. Jughead felt like they shouldn’t expose their backs to the Ghoulies, but they had little other choice. Once they were outside, his dad turned and clasped both his shoulders tightly.

“Are you okay, boy?” he asked, echoing Betty’s earlier question.

Jughead turned his head to spit on the sidewalk, noticing that most of what left his mouth was blood. His body was aching terribly, face throbbing already from the many blows he’d endured. But the adrenaline of the situation still hadn’t left him, either. He nodded, not yet fully feeling the pain. 

“I’ll be fine, dad,” he said. “How about you?”

FP laughed shortly. “I’ve had worse,” he said. “At least we didn’t get shot.”

Jughead felt his brows come together as he said, “You thought we were going to be shot?”

His dad shook his head. “Well, I hoped it wouldn’t come to a fight at all, of course.”

He wondered whether or not his dad had set him up for a moment, but then Jughead remembered the deal that JB had made with Malachi. He supposed that it would have come to violence of some sort no matter what, and at least this way he’d been able to keep Betty at a safe distance.

They waited outside The Crypt for less than ten minutes before stolen hot rods began to fill the back lot. Serpent-masked individuals left the cars and ran over, circling their injured brothers. Jughead saw someone leave a small package on the driver’s seat of one of the cars. From across the lot, he saw a flash of silver and the edge of a zipper.

One Serpent grabbed their mask and pulled it off, revealing a distraught green-eyed face and a mess of blonde hair. Betty threw her arms around Jughead, tears already streaking her eyes. 

Two cars arrived to bring them back home, and Toni thoughtfully brought an ice pack with her. Jughead and FP passed it back and forth during the short drive, laughing with the others about accomplishing their mission.

They’d still have to go home and deal with Jellybean, but at least the Ghoulies no longer had their hands in Jones business. Jughead slipped his arm around Betty, wincing as her shoulder connected with his bruised ribs. At least, from now on, she’d be safe.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little epilogue~

In Riverdale, Coming Home marked the end of the basketball season. Mirroring Homecoming, it was a chance for alumni to come and watch a game, celebrating their memories from the stands as student athletes competed for glory on the court. After the game, students and their families celebrated by donning their finest clothes and filling the gymnasium for a Sadie Hawkins dance. It was also an opportunity for underclassmen, not yet old enough to attend the prom, to have a spring formal. It was rare for anyone to miss the chance for extra revelry, and the Jones children were no exception. When Betty had asked him to be her date, he’d joked and said that he was worried she was going to choose someone less troublesome. She’d smiled and kissed him in response. 

Jughead stood outside the gym, feeling out of place with his hair brushed aside and his dad’s button down shirt fastened over a t-shirt. He’d never enjoyed dressing up, always feeling like he was wearing a costume rather than cleaning himself up.

But when Alice Cooper’s car stopped in front of the school and Betty stepped out of the back, he forgot all about his discomfort.

She was wearing a strapless emerald cocktail dress with a sweetheart neckline, a single pearl hanging on a silver chain around her neck. Her hair was swept up in a mass of curls, sparkling clips fastening them away from her face. Black stiletto heels completed her outfit, which clicked as she walked across the pavement toward the school.

Her face lit up when she saw him. Jughead glanced around, still hardly able to believe that he was going to go into the dance with this beautiful, radiant girl on his arm. 

Next to him, Jellybean twitched in a purple gown their mother had tailored to fit her petite frame. She leaned over a bit and said, “Wow, Betty turned out all right.”

Jughead glanced at her. “Will you go find someone else to bother?” he asked, somewhat teasingly. “If you weren’t so horrible to everyone, you might have gotten yourself a date too.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not horrible,” she almost whined. “Riverdale boys are just _boring_.”

Betty was close enough now that she could hear them. She smiled over at Jellybean. “Not your brother,” she said, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Jellybean issued an appropriately disgusted groan and turned, marching into the dance. Jughead was grateful for her departure, smiling as he took Betty into his arms.

“You look amazing,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. The heels helped make up for their height difference, but not enough that she was the taller of the two. She slipped her arms around his neck as they kissed, but let go quickly when he gave an involuntary gasp of pain.

The beating he’d gotten at The Crypt had been last week, but some of his bruises were still tender. At least his purple cheek had already faded. Riverdale High had called in his social worker when he turned up at school the day after his suspension ended. He’d spent an hour repeatedly explaining that he’d gotten into a fight with a few friends before she’d let him go back to class.

Betty was waiting for him at lunch with a stack of make-up homework. She’d smiled and cheerfully announced that they’d be studying together after school at Pop’s. Jughead protested, but she’d promised that they would get a burger so he gave in. With Betty studiously tucked into the booth across from him, tapping the end of her pencil against her lip as she thought, it was a wonder that he got any of his assignments caught up at all. 

His mother had single-handedly packed the trailer the same day, not that there was much there to move other than clothes and a couple of dishes. The Lodge housing development was ready and waiting, like a field of Venus fly traps waiting to consume as many low-income denizens of the Southside as possible. Saturday, they’d moved. His parents had bought champagne to celebrate, pouring glasses for Jughead and Jellybean too.

After a few Serpents helped them move their sofa-bed, kitchen table, and Queen bed, Betty had come over. It was painfully obvious that their old furniture was dwarfed by the maw of the house, but FP and Gladys seemed so excited that it didn’t matter to any of them.

Jughead set up his camp cot in the room they’d said would be his, tossing his clothes in piles on the ground. The house was a single-story ranch on a crawl space, nothing out of the ordinary. He and Betty shared Chinese takeout in the middle of the lacquered floor.

In the subsequent days, they’d procured second-hand dressers and pressboard bookshelves. The house was already looking more like a home. Gladys kept cooking meals in celebration, and their family dinners slowly became less awkward. A framed photo of himself and Jellybean appeared on the living room wall, neither of them any older than five, laughing on the shore of Sweetwater River. Gladys must have had it in Toronto.

In a rare burst of parenting that Jughead never expected, his parents confined Jellybean to the house at 7 pm daily. She complied without much argument. After a few days of seeing her reading when he got in well after dark, and feeling particularly charitable, Jughead brought her a double chocolate milkshake. She’d told him that she didn’t mind if he called her Jellybean after that.

On Sunday, Veronica and Betty took her shopping. They didn’t tell Jughead what happened or what had been said, but his sister came home a meeker Jellybean than ever before. She wasn’t totally changed in school, still flipping her hair like it was a weaponized sigil. It seemed, for now, that her bark was much worse than her bite, though. Nonetheless, she asked Cheryl Blossom for a spot among the River Vixens. Her tryout would be in the fall, since the season was coming to a close.

Monday through Friday, Betty had been hanging paper puffs in the gym and organizing the dance chaperones with the Parent Teacher Organization. She’d been collecting ballots for the Coming Home Court, cutting up slips of paper for votes, and then counting endlessly before re-counting.

Jughead helped out a little, but Betty had the art of dance planning down to a science.

While Betty and the girls went home to change after cheering at the game, Archie and Jughead transformed the gym into a dance hall. Really, they’d just pushed a few tables together and smoothed out a tablecloth, letting the parent chaperones lay out snacks and juice. Betty had already prepared everything else.

As they walked inside, she looked around appreciatively. “Thanks for your help, Jug,” she said, smiling.

He shook his head. “It was all you, Betty. Setting up a table is a mindless task.”

A slow song was playing. Looking at each other without needing to say anything, they slipped their arms around each other and swayed in time.

The dance, for once, was fairly uneventful. Afterwards, Jughead and Betty went with Veronica and Archie for a weekend of soaking in the hot tub at the Lodge’s lake house.

“The two of you need a soak, and I need a minute away from this town,” Veronica had said earlier that week.

Jughead saw Jellybean get into the Accord before he left with his friends. FP nodded to him as he grabbed his bag from the back. Jughead hadn’t said anything to his dad about being led into The Crypt totally unaware of the fight that was about to take place, and he thought maybe that he didn’t need to. The endless series of milkshakes and burgers during the study dates Jughead shared with Betty seemed to be as good an indication as any that his dad was feeling apologetic.

As they pulled into the driveway, Veronica politely thanked their driver. It was well after midnight, but they would sleep in the next day. Jughead took Betty’s bag and his own, heading inside. After everything that had happened, and dancing for hours, getting into a hot tub sounded like the answer to his prayers.

He dropped their bags on the bed, unzipping his to dig out his swim trunks.

“Jughead? Can you help me unzip this?” Betty asked from the bathroom, her shoes already kicked aside. 

He didn’t need asking twice. The zipper on the back of her dress was lower than her shoulder blades, just out of her reach. Betty glanced over her shoulder at him as she let it pool to the ground, revealing her strapless bra and matching panties. And, Jughead was shocked to see, something else.

A small smile quirked her lips as he slipped his hands over her waist and leaned over to get a better look.

“Betty—“ he started.

“It’s a temporary thing, it’s henna,” she interrupted, amused. “I thought you might like it.”

He brushed his fingers over the tattoo on her upper right thigh, tracing the pattern of the snake. It twisted over itself, almost identical to the mark on his own arm. Betty shivered at his touch, pressing closer to him.

"I like it,” he said before she could say anything. Sliding his hands up her body, he leaned down and kissed her.

It was a much more passionate kiss than they’d been able to share outside the school. His tongue found hers as she melted against him. Betty’s fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pushing it off to join her dress on the floor. 

They stumbled over to the bed, unwilling to take their lips off each other as they struggled out of the rest of their clothes. When Betty laid back on the bed, her knees drawn up, Jughead slid downward until he could kiss the mark on her thigh. He slid her panties over the curve of her hip, letting her kick them away.

Betty moaned and nudged him upward, until he was rocking his hips against hers with need. He reached over and slipped a foil packet from the front zipper of his bag, rolling its contents over himself before returning to Betty’s willing body.

As he slid within her, she pressed her heels against his back and rose to meet him. Jughead rocked his hips forward, gratified to see her gasp and drop her head back against the bed. 

For a few minutes, there was no sound but Betty’s gasps and skin meeting skin. He ignored the way that the bruises on his back were crying out at her touch, focusing instead on losing himself within her. Betty lifted her head and kissed him, and he could feel her body tensing beneath his. She gasped against his mouth, arching against him as she reached her limit.

Jughead found his own release and fought the urge to collapse on top of her. He stayed for a moment, using the mattress to hold his weight off her.

“I love you,” she whispered, looking over as he settled next to her.

Jughead brushed a curled hair away from her eyes and couldn’t help letting a smile spread over his face. “I love you, too,” he said. 

Betty glanced over to the door and said, “Let’s not keep them waiting any more, Jug.” She went to the bathroom and turned on the shower to wash the spray out of the curls she’d worn for the dance.

He followed, cleaning up before pulling on his swim shorts. Archie and Veronica would definitely be wondering what was taking them so long, by now. As he watched Betty towel off and step out of the shower, he decided that he didn’t care.

She smiled over at him when she noticed he was watching. Deftly tying her bikini top in place, she moved toward the door as she wrapped a towel around her waist. When she walked, her temporary tattoo peeked out with each step. 

He followed her outside. Stepping into the tub alongside Veronica and Archie, he felt himself relax for the first time since his dad had broke the news that their family was going to be reunited. Jughead slipped an arm around Betty and closed his eyes, content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and kind comments, everyone! I couldn’t imagine Jellybean returning to Riverdale without some sort of drama. I apologize if I messed up any characterization or details—this was written during the break between 2.17 and 2.18, so it might become quite wrong between now and the end of season 2. It was quite nice to contribute to this fandom while I had a break from work, you are all so lovely and supportive.


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